


Draconology

by BatsuGames



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But not in the dom and sub way, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon experts, Dragons, Elvhen senses know who's good for them, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Magical Artifacts, Martial Arts, Modern Girl in Thedas, NSFW, OC is Orlesian, OC is a cheerful dragon hunter, OC is a martial artist, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Power Imbalance, Powerful Magical Characters, Pregnancy, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, UST, Women In Power, but she's Scottish, fast burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 48
Words: 193,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatsuGames/pseuds/BatsuGames
Summary: Ivy Montgomery has been in Thedas for eleven years now, searching. In that time she's become a Draconologist, hunting and maintaining the ecology of dragons for the safety and prosperity of Orlais with Frederic of Serault. She's tracked one to Haven and upon being pushed aside for the talks between Mages and Templars, she left to hunt it down, only to bump into wandering hedge mage Solas.And for the sky to split open.





	1. Haven

 

 

**Chapter One**

 

“Ugh! I am done with these people!” Ivy hissed to herself and strode forth away from everyone.

 

Apparently after several days of freaking out about Templars and Mages having their talks, a high dragon coming to roost not far off was of no concern to anyone there. It was just a Ferelden Frostback. You know, not like it wasn’t territorial beyond any other kind of high dragon. Not that it didn’t spawn offspring out the wazoo like whooooa. Not that it wasn’t the most perceptive of the high dragons out there with extra _wonderfully_ serrated teeth and claws.

 

Idiots.

 

For the first couple years she’d been in Orlais, she’d become friends with Frederic, a well-known draconologist with a taste for the daring, and sometimes that of the stupid. When she’d once admired the dragon armour in a showcasing salon in the University of Orlais, the ever-enthusiastic Professor of Draconology had come over and began talking her ear off and when she’d seemed interested he’d gone on and on and on. Ivy didn’t mind, having nothing to do for a few days. And really, it did take a few days. The woman had tried to depart politely to the tavern, but he’d invited himself along, paying for all the drinks.

 

And well, how could she say no to free drinks when she practially lived in the gutter?

 

It’s only when he’d talked about travelling to different countries Ivy had jumped on that.

 

_“Well, why don’t you go to Nevarra if it's there? I’d go with you and be your bodyguard if you feed me and keep me well. I’ve had years of experiencing in martial arts from my dad since I was a tyke.”_

_“Oh, would you?! A companion would bring about more time to study dragons…”_

_“Hunting down dragons? Sure, just teach me what you know so I can live long enough to also keep you alive and so I can find- well, keep ‘me’ alive.”_

_“But, of course, Madame Ivy!”_

_“Ivy is fine.”_

_“Non! If we are to document the gracious dragons, we must maintain our own greatness to them!”_

_“Our own greatness, huh? Heh. I’m rather starting to like you.”_

_“Starting? What do you mean by just starting?!”_

_“So this dragon in Nevarra, Gamorden you said, right? Tell me more of her?”_

_“Ah, the lovely lightning lady!”_

 

And from then on, Ivy had travelled with the professor, using her skills as a martial artist to keep him protected and her time as a teacher of the arts to lead men successfully into battle against said Gamorden Stormrider. In time, she’d gained notoriety amongst the Professors of Orlais as the woman to go to for protection to dangerous areas, because honestly, what could be worse than a dragon?

 

She’d gained enough money to buy herself a home in Val Royeaux, filling it with wonderful dragon delights after selling most of the more expensive or easily sold bits. Rarer finds were given to the museum for protection and a fee so they could showcase their magnificence as an educational centre others should aspire to, gaining her more money. The Orlesian’s held her up higher than they should, bowing when they saw her because someone richer and more popular at the time had drunkenly done so. It was mainly a huge thumb of the nose to Tevinter’s, who adored their dragons, and the Nevarran’s with their Pentaghast’s of draconic notoriety and both had never quite gained someone as proficient as Ivy.

 

Who was now famed for her high dragon slaying abilities and had given up telling people that she had groups with her to protect one another and it _Wasn’t just her for fucks sake you morons don’t you listen to Frederic, no shut up Fred-_

 

But nada.

 

Frederic was like an adorable egocentric cousin. Annoying at times, perhaps too fixated on dragons, but helpful as anything. He’d gained as much from her as she had from him however, using her mind that remembered enemies attacks and ways and submitting those of the dragons to him. While his name was always first in any essay put into critique from other Professors, her opinions and experiences were the majority of his work and kept her own reputation up. Then she struck out on her own and gained greater knowledge, working as an honoured Professor of Draconology, a professional title bestowed upon her a couple years back, and going out on dragon hunts.

 

She was damn good at what she did, becoming the most successful hunter currently alive, and it’d taken her over a decade to get here.

 

So when she was trying to warn the Templars and Mages in Haven that they should _really meet somewhere else because hey this unnamed breed of dragon was likely really hungry looking and maaaaaybe you should do so at another place_ and they didn’t shift it, she was a little bit pissy.

 

People’s lives were at stake and these idiots cared zilch for this fire breathing high lady being around to munch on them for nutrients for her developing offspring.

 

Normally people went _oh shit we should get a group together of our best fighters and go sort this shit out before it all scorches us to death_ but this group was all _but the Templars and their lyrium supplies and the mages and their potential for being demonized-_ blah blah fucking blah.

 

Templars still had their damn supplies of lyrium and respect of the Chantry.

 

Mages weren’t currently demons, abominations, _whatever_ and were still taken in warily.

 

That’s as it had been for years even with this new rebellion against Circles.

 

It could go on.

 

That high dragon was _here_ and _now_ and she was going to soon look for food and start eating tasty humans. Hell, they could even use this as a way to work together and gain a better understanding of how to actually stop fearing and distrusting each other. But apparently because she didn’t come with an entourage signifying her rank or respected position in Orlais or something akin to that, that meant she was barely acknowledged and her telling people _this needed to get done now_ met with nothing but shakes of the heads and sighs or apologies. The woman snorted as she made her way out.

 

No.

 

She was done.

 

They had their warning and opportunity to use her abilities as a high dragon slayer.

 

She'd go find it her damn self.

 

It was a couple hours later from Haven she was travelling through the frosty woods that she met with an elf, unusual because he was a singular mage, and bald – something usually only the elder male elves did but he seemed young enough, mid-thirties at a guess.

 

He stopped because she was travelling with a hart, one of the creatures of his people, and had to stare a second.

 

She stopped because he did, curious but unafraid. Dragons were far more fearsome than mages after all.

 

None of them had magic akin to its breath in strength and a staff could be easily broken.

 

Ivy spoke up first from the side of her darling hart, beginning to move again closer, “If you are heading to Haven, I’d advise caution.”

 

He watched her with careful eyes but didn’t move and she watched as he slowly hunched in on himself, making her frown. “May I ask as to why the caution?”

 

“Not only because you’re a mage going into a Templar filled city and that is just painful for you guys and I really wouldn’t wish anyone to bestow _that_ sort of pain on anyone,” She eyed his staff curiously before looking back at him. “But also because a high dragon has decided to nest in this area. She will be very attracted to Haven. All that yummy food with only a bit of steel protection?” Then she looked at his clothing carefully. “Or fade touched wool which is much tastier to her? _And_ you’re magical? Dragons like mages better than the rest of us by the way. Tangier flavour in general, I think. They do like their citrus and spice aromas.” She grinned wryly and gave a wink, “Must be the magic giving you that extra tastiness.”

 

He smiled at her, a bit more lively now he knew she wasn’t outright threatening him for being magical or elf, shoulders a little less hunched. “How delightful!”

 

Good!

 

She liked that bit more enthusiasm in his tone.

 

Her eyes brightened and so did her smile. She went forward to him in concern as she said, “Right? Listen, the people in Haven are only focused on the meeting between the temps and mags rather than the high dragon. Such a large concentration of the both of them will only tempt her to eat them. And frankly, if I can save even _one_ mage from-” Ivy was cut off, stumbling when the world shook as the sky open and throbbed in power.

 

The mage did the same, and they caught each other on instinct. They stared at each other in surprise as they held on tight to one another but the pair of them then caught sight of the freaked-out hart and grabbed him by the reins and began murmuring soothing nonsense to the mount. The elf spoke in very eloquent elvish and herself in Chinese, something the hart reacted to favourably, shoving his face into her chest but leaning its shoulder into the elf.

 

“He is attached to you,” The elf murmured softly, surprised by this swaying against her despite hearing perfect elven from an ancient elf, “You speak to him in words he likes greatly.”

 

Ivy nuzzled into the space between the harts eyes before nudging her dear hart with a bit more force with her nose. It whined but nuzzled into her more before huffing and standing to attention when she put her hands behind her back and projected leadership.

 

He watched, eyes bright and intent on this. “You know how to act with hart?”

 

“Of course. Stayed with Dalish for a bit. You’re… not Dalish, right?” He shook his head in reply and she nodded as she eyed him, squinting as she mentioned, “Nah, didn’t think so. One like you without face tattoos? Lealos loves me like I love my boy. Mwah.” She kissed her lips at the hart and it did a little prance in return, startling and delighting the elf man whose eyes widened at this action. He was about to comment on this rare bond and she saw and was about to give a cheeky response when she looked up and gawped at the tear in the sky, glinting a mystical green and something like a more malevolent aurora borealis. She reached out absently, making him look at her in alarm before looking up where she was goggling and her grip on him tightened, both protective and seeking protection. “Ah! What in the…?!”

 

“There is a rift between here and the Fade!”

 

“You’re joking, right?” Ivy looked at him in disbelief, dropping her hand and rubbing the shank of her hart to keep him calm even as she inwardly fret. “How the bloody hell do you know that?”

 

“I am an expert of the Fade! It is my personal study of magic!” He seemed more than slightly harried, he was worried, fearful and Ivy looked at him fully.

 

Because he reminded her of when she arrived in Thedas…

 

She gulped, wondering if he also came from-

 

No.

 

Coming from Earth was nigh on an impossibility for one person.

 

Meeting another?

 

Ivy sighed out, lightning blue eyes intent on him as he stared only at the rift, intent and focused.

 

Of course she’d never meet another like herself and her freak accident with the baoding balls.

 

She was foolish to even think-

 

Ivy shook her head.

 

“Lealos.” The hart got the hint and bowed slightly, allowing her to climb up on him easily. She held a hand out to the elf. “That’s over Haven. You _are_ going go to Haven, yes? Let me take you there.”

 

“I am.” He took it and pulled himself behind the human.

 

Ivy clicked her mouth twice and said commandingly, “Lealos, josa Haven’an,” using the small amount of useful elven she knew for the hart and it burst into action, faster than any horse she’d ridden. It bounded and she got its rhythm instantly, with the male behind her falling into suit a second later with ease, gripping onto the horn of the saddle and right up close to her.

 

He actually knew how to double ride hart?

 

Unusual, even for elves.

 

“My name is Ivy!” She called to him when the hart bounded up.

 

He followed in time with the next bounding up. “Solas!”

 

“A pleasure! It seems your expertise will suddenly come in more use than my own!” She laughed.

 

Solas couldn’t help but smile ruefully. “Indeed so!”

 

“So! By the way! A Fade expert coming here is either the most suspicious thing ever, or the luckiest of tidings!” She grinned as she felt him stiffen slightly, minutely, so incrementally that many others would never have noticed but one could never truly stop their first reaction when they weren’t expecting something – only cover it well.

 

Well, he was quite the suspect, wasn’t he?

 

“I assure you I had no hand in this Breach opening!”

 

“Called a Breach, is it?” She looked at him over her shoulder, still grinning as she saw him narrow his eyes at her stonily, watchful. “I can’t wait to see what you do! Now for the important question!” His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “What… is your favourite dragon?”

 

Only the sound of hooves went on for a moment or five.

 

“I… I beg your pardon?” He sounded a bit flummoxed.

 

“Well, if’n you did have something to do with this, I’m not about to go pissing you off. Certainly not with a nice looking body like yours either,” She flirted and snickered when he reared back slightly, a bit taken aback at the electric change of conversation. “Ha! That face of yours is a picture!” She winked and then turned around again when his eyebrows raised, unsure whether to be amused or offended. “Okay, favourite dragon, shoot!”

 

“Hm… The Hivernal, I suppose.”

 

“Suppose he says! I am offended,” She laughed, showing she really was not. “A Cold high lady though? Such marvellous detailing on the hide and it reminds me of some old paintings I’ve seen.”

 

“It is most alike to elvhen paintings, yes.” He sounded wistful.

 

Ivy perked up. “Yeah! Now you mention it, I either see the block colour paintings that represent stories or the mosaic like pieces, which are my preference, when it comes to elf works. Do you know the names of any artist I could potentially look up? I think I’d like to buy some mosaic ones. Oh, you know what? I have some hide of Hivernal still, could be fun for us to compare the pieces. I wonder if the elves took inspiration from them from so long ago like the Avvar had? What’s your history know-how like? Got any dragon info I’d unlikely know about, which is unlikely in itself?”

 

With a chuckle and sounding pleased, Solas eased a little bit at her ongoing words and kept the conversation going.

 

By hart it took an hour, Lealos being the faster and more stamina-inclined of his kind. Ivy concernedly stopped the hart slightly earlier than usual because of the two of them. “Lealos likely tires after such a long burst of running with two.” The hart keened and shook his head. “Hush up, you. I know you better. You’ll fall asleep when we get back.” A grumble. “We walk from now on. It should only be a short walk regardless.” She double tapped Solas’ thigh so he got off.

 

He seemed to approve as he slid off slowly, helping her off the hart politely, but reaching for her waist instead of holding just a hand out. “Of course. You are good to your mount.” He pulled her down against him, enjoying the solid feel of her against him.

 

“Thanks.” She cocked her head at his hands slower movement of letting go but ignored whatever it was but for a brief curious glance and smile his way over her shoulder, checking up on her hart. He didn’t look harmed or ill-affected by this double riding. He was just a bit sweaty and breathing a little hard. He nuzzled into her and she gave an appreciative bit of affection by rubbing his nose.

 

Good. He was still rather young for a hart after all.

 

“Shall we?” Solas asked as he came up to her side companionably, even if his eyes lingered on her, and Lealos huffed and shoved himself between them. The hart stared at him, hard. Solas cleared his throat, trying not to smirk widely and swiftly antagonise the mount. “You have a territorial hart. He is most protective of you. It is surprising to see. Only hart of ages past bonded so closely and with such understanding of word.”

 

Ivy snickered. “Isn’t he? Don’t worry, Lealos. _You’re still my favourite boy_ ,” She teased in Chinese and the hart huffed happily, leaning his great head on her shoulder and she drew her arm up to reach up and scratch at the base of his massively sharp horn, ‘accidentally’ brushing Solas. He was surprisingly cool to the touch. He was also delightfully very firm. “Hm, Lealos. We _do_ need to touch up on these horns of yours before you shred and itch at the worst possible timing. Again.”

 

Solas felt his lips twitch up at that, appreciating the flirting between them. It’d been far too long. Even before he awoke. “Again, you say?”

 

Ivy leaned forward to see Solas, shucking a suddenly cocky hart off her shoulder and shoving him back and away when he trilled proudly and pounded his front feet, making Solas dodge the horns. “Ugh, this bloody hart is a _nightmare_ around his horn shedding time. He shuffles and puffs and huffs and rubs at every tree until I have to sand them down just to hush him up. Doesn’t like it when I push him to a tree when I’m busy either. Spoilt prince. That’s what you naturally do!”

 

Lealos cried mournfully at her.

 

She gave him an exasperated look. “Oh don’t give me _that.”_ She turned to Solas with a grin appearing. _“_ When he was younger, just broken into adulthood, we had this other company with us as we were about to take down a pack of dragonlings a mother had abandoned but were beginning to really eat everything around this small village and running roughshod over this delicate silk tree trade they had growing. This other company had a guy on a back of his own pretty female and in season hart. _Guess what happened?_ ”

 

Solas laughed lowly at the emphasis she put into those words. “I can imagine! Hart are most troublesome!”

 

“Oh yes! The best bit-” Ivy flung her head back and laughed at the memory, interrupting herself, “T-The best bit was that while I could immediately jump off, the other rider was stuck between his mount and Lealos! He was _stuck there!_ Stuck while Lealos decided he had another itch to rub!” The elf laughed louder and freely, completely entertained and joining in with her open friendliness. “Afterwards the other rider was able to just about crawl out and tumbled into my arms saying ‘H-Hah’ren! I need my h-h-hah’ren!’ and clung to me before he burst into tears, ahaha! Poor guy!” Lealos pranced and honked happily as she cackled.

 

“A good story.” Solas chuckled and watched her calm down with a happy sigh, a little grin on his lips. It had been a while since he had laughed like this over something perhaps immature but still highly amusing to think about. He was surprised at this, the lack of awkward silence between two new parties meeting, the lack of fear on her side about roaming with an unknown male, the lack of fear of backstabbing he got from her.

 

If he ignored the roundness of her ears, it was almost like being with his type of Elvhe-

 

No.

 

“One of my favourite to tell, but rarely do I meet someone who knows harts well enough to get the nuances of their ways.”

 

“Yes, their horny ways are known to me.”

 

“Noo! You did not just pun,” She laugh-groaned as they came up to Haven and its gates. “Please don’t.”

 

“Well, if it isn’t the Prof! Come to warn us about the invisible dragon again?” A guard said.

 

Ivy grinned back. “Don’t worry, your invisible death won’t mean anything to anyone, random guard number two thousand and something-something-something.”

 

The other guardsman snickered as he began to open the gate to Haven. “She got you there, guard number-”

 

“ _Shut it._ ”

 

“Too late,” Ivy taunted as she led the way in. “It’s caught on now.” Lealos keened, joining in, further making the better guard laugh at his colleague. “Has the cabin I was in been taken, Allen?”

 

The decent guard threw a smirk again at a disgruntled sound coming from the other guard, pleased. “You’ve barely been gone an afternoon, Prof. There’s a lot of wounded near the healing wards set up about the place and in the Chantry instead of travellers or visiting dignitaries. It’s not been taken.”

 

“Good-good.”

 

“And there’s been the Divine Justinia killed.”

 

That stilled the three going in. “What?”

 

Allen began his tale and rumours of the breach, the divine’s death, and a mage found with a mark on their hand. “There you have it.”

 

“Oh, wow.”

 

“I shall go offer my help,” Solas murmured to her. “Perhaps I will come to you later?”

 

Ivy felt a little smile lilt her lips and she teased, “I’ll have a bath drawn up. Cabin far to the left of the Chantry.” She winked at him and clicked her tongue, Lealos following instantly.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 


	2. The Nose Knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is mature and friend with benefits....
> 
> Ahem.

 

 

**Chapter Two**

 

 

 

It was many hours later that Ivy heard the knock on the door and looked up from writing letters, mind blurring for a second as she had no idea who’d knock at this time when Leliana was busy with espionage and Josephine was constantly writing letters to nobles for support, relaxed as she was in a mere cami, a poets shirt on top, her soft sleeping breeches and fuzzy socks she’d amusingly dyed a bright orange that happily offended nobles fashionista eyes.

 

Then it clicked and she grinned naughtily to herself, putting down her inky quill on its stand.

 

_Oh._

 

The woman stood up, having removed her armour and hung it up next to her bed and having dried before a fire after being washed. It was one she’d looted from a high dragons nest. One thing that had stayed correct between dragons of here and her world was the fact they had treasure hordes. It was a part of a trio of rare Grey Warden armours and named after their motto, this one being ‘In Death, Sacrifice’. It wasn’t her best armour but it was the most comfortable and looked damn good on her in its royal blue cloth and burnished golden-orange hued protective metal, slightly glinting with extra magical protections on it. Though she'd done away with that chest plate, not actually a Warden; she had a little more respect for the order than to just carelessly take their mark and clothes on and had gained a nod from a previous Warden at it when she'd worn it during her last battle against a Gamorden.

 

She lightly padded over to the door, a gloved hand unlocking the door and opening it, blinking bright blue eyes up at Solas before a grin settled on her lips. “Ah! You actually came around- oh but you look tired. Tough time? Excuse me, that was possibly quite rude. Come in, come in!” The door opened wider for him and she closed it behind him when he stepped in, smiling at her lightly before looking around and chuckling. “Hm?”

 

“You actually have a bath prepared,” He said, looking at it.

  

“For you, yes.” She continued at his raised brow, “No offence, but if a male is coming around mine late at night for reasons, he is bathing first, no questions.” Her eyes twinkled at him but then she looked at him, taking him in fully. “You are also tensed up, a bit of bathing in hot water will ease that strained body of yours. Might have cooled a little, but there’s hot water in the cauldron on the fire if you want it.” Her body throbbed at the thought of the one night stand coming up.

 

Solas raised his brows. Not many would treat an elf so kindly during this time. Nor would many bed only partners treat their lovers so well either. However, as she said, bathing first; perhaps she simply did not like partners to smell upon entering her bed, which he was fully in agreement with. “Thank you.”

 

“Think nothing of it. I will let you relax for a bit as I finish up a couple letters.” Ivy smiled at him and returned to her table next to the fireplace and set upon the last few she had to send out.

 

He watched her with piercing eyes for a second, wondering what she was up to as he reached for the wooden handle of the cauldron. “To whom do you write?” He asked neutrally, allowing some curiosity in his tone. His lips quirked up at the bright eccentric orange socks. Not unlike her fascination and apparent career, she was bold in fashion choice.

 

She wasn't about to tell him of St Clements, her little spying business she'd set up in Orlais a few years back to keep tabs on everything. “You know of my passion for dragons,” She said over her shoulder, closing up one letter and sealing it with wax and going onto the next as she said, “Many others know of it too. My knowledge doesn’t just go into types and their ecology, but also in the market for each pieces of it and their worth. Currently this goes to a noble in Val Royeaux who thinks she’s been overcharged for an exquisite piece of dragon bone that’s been fashioned into a mask and diligently had some particularly good frosty blue coloured hide of a Kaltenzahn worked onto it. A most wonderful piece. I was so very tempted to own it myself. I’m replying to her with fake sympathy and information of a list of specialised vendors she can name drop me in and gently saying she should go to each of them and work out for herself if she has been overcharged.”

 

Solas finished pouring the hot water into the larger than usual bathing tub and put it aside, intending on refilling it tomorrow for her. “You are known in Val Royeaux?” He asked, having been testing some of the oils she had and putting in some of the herbie-minty-smelling lotion in the bath. He then began to strip, wondering if she would be looking. He was surprised when she didn't even twitch at the clothing dropping into a neat, folded pile.

 

“Yes, I work in the University, so luckily I stay out of the most vicious parts of The Game – though academia is its own The Game,” She said wryly and gained a knowing hum from him. “There’s only a small amount of us foolish enough to go chasing after dragons, so us ridiculous few get plenty of messages like this. If I wish to stay relevant in my field and have nobles giving me their money to bring them back rewards while I sell off the rest of my cut and get a living off of it, I have to reply to exasperating things like this. It can be fun sometimes when you get an eager patron who wishes to make it a summer trip and you see their adoring faces at a baby dragon. They _are_ ludicrously cute,” She mused with a happy sigh.

 

That was a good trip. The man's cousin that she'd guided around was married to a vineyard owner that did excellent Antivan wine and got she free samples for doing this for him and keeping him alive after him being an idiot and waltzing up to the dragon nest and fighting off hungry drakes. Samples, equalling a free crate at each creation of wine he made in thanks for keeping his family alive. She regularly visited the wine maker and they were good friends.

  

The elf finished stripping and stepped into the tub, laying back with closed eyes and a sigh, lips twitching up at her feminine chuckle at the sound. He peeped at her through lashes, but she wasn’t looking at him, delicately scribbling away. He smiled at the writing gloves, completely stained; she was messy. Cute. He relaxed for a few minutes to the sound of her scrawling away, and the crackling of the wood in the firepit in the cabin, enjoying the hot spiced cider scent coming from a ceramic jug next to her. The mage looked at it upon a holed, metal stand with a small candle below it, keeping it warm without it boiling and frothing over.

 

Clever.

 

It would have been good to have had that many a long night himself.

 

He lazed in the bath, washing himself slowly as she went through multiple letters and taking his time on having the nicest bath since he re-awoke. He watched as she took the gloves off, picked up one of the few but heavy books next to her and flipped through it carefully, finger skimming down before she tapped at the passage thoughtfully. She went into her own head for a few minutes, barely blinking as her gaze settled on a cup before her. A little frown was between her brows. “What is it you look for?” He queried of her, looking at her as she tilted her head to hear him properly, lost in her mind.

 

“Hm? Look for...?” She distractedly hummed and turned to him, the first time since he’d gotten in twenty minutes ago. “Oh, I was wondering what the high dragon species could be that is around here. It’s bothering me. One of my fellows at the university states it could be a mutation of the Ravager and that seems to be a consensus – but only from the two others that believe me that it exists in the first place. I think it’d be more mutated Fereldan. I’m merely reminding them I have not been wrong so far and that there are only so many dragon types and no, I won’t be coming back to stay until I figure this out. Another dragon type would be a marvellous find after all.”

 

“I wish you luck.”

 

“It’s a safer bet then wishing everyone else stop being an ignorant moron and listen to the dragon expert. Talking of experts, how’d your talk with Leliana go? I do presume it was her you had to go through like I did when first here?” She turned back to her work, but was still listening.

 

“Yes. The reports of a mage bearing a mark were true. She is a Dalish elf, quite young, perhaps fifteen to twenty summers." He silently agreed with the wince she made at the thought of a child bearing this mark, trying to ignore the deep welling guilt he felt. "The mark is unfortunately growing. There are some theories I have. It is obviously connected, but how? What magic energies and properties does it possess? Is it affecting her in anyway? Her body twitches as if in pain intermittently. Will she fall to demons or does it have the reverse effect and she is strengthened against them, able to repel with far more ease any mage would be envious of? Does the breach closing means the mark disappears? Will the mage even have enough control or power or determination to overcome the unstable properties of the fluctuating Breach?” There was slight despair in his voice.

 

Something she heard and responded to quite intrinsically. She pulled her gloves back on as she spoke firmly, “Properties can be tested when she’s around the Breach. Same goes for the demon thing.” She filled out some more of her letter. “If mages get desirous of it then we sit them the heck down and tell them to suck it up and stop being whiny arse children and actually work on themselves like they should be doing.” She blew on her finished letter, putting it aside to dry and opened another, wax seal cracking and flaking down as she did so. “I don’t fully understand what’s on the other side of the Veil but hopefully it gets closed up and the mark goes peacefully. Again, it and the mage can be tested around the Breach.”

 

Solas had simply been rambling off his questions. He did not expect them to be answered and not in such succinctly logical replies, nor with strength that he appreciated. It gained her quite the bit of his respect this day. Not many would be as strong to say it with such firmness and surety. He wondered of her, to be able to be so leader-like. A little buoyed by this as she began to write, he went on, “And if she cannot? What does that mean for this world? Of the terror that could be bestowed upon the people? What would happen to the mark if the only person it is attached to falls? Do we lose the only way to save ourselves?” He went on watching her fully now as she slowly wrote, listening to him. “Will the Breach continue in other area as this closes?”

 

Ivy was quiet for a moment, finishing up her letter to her friend in Val Royeaux asking not to be too exasperated with a noble likely coming his way. “If she can’t then we train her up with the best and keep trying in minutely different ways and narrow down how to do it with more efficiency, like any experiment. In the meantime, we have to build up ways of keeping the people safe, alerting those in control of defences etcetera-etcetera-etcetera and so on and so forth and all that side of things. If we lose the mark, and if the mark is the only way to deal with the Breach, we make another one but better, placing it on a person mentally strong enough to wield it. Right now would be best to try and copy it down somewhere, on that thought. If it opens elsewhere, the marked lady goes there and keeps it up as more and more back up plans are made.” She picked up her kettle and poured two drinks.

 

She was calm, unafraid.

 

Solas wondered if she was actually taking on the gravity of this situation with her brevity. Regardless, it did not make her words any less true. He leaned his elbows on the sides of the tub, putting his chin on top of his knuckles as he took her in, sipping her cider as she brought his over and sat by him when he took it. “Thank you.” He sipped it, the fruity flavour sweet but not too much to be distasteful. It held an herby undertone taste and yet was very drinkable. It was one of the better drinks he’d had since he woke up over a year ago, likely the best. “This is good.”

 

She smiled at him before turning to the fire, back against the tub. “You’re welcome. I add some extra herbs, the tiniest bit of brandy and honey because the original is… alright enough,” She said grudgingly if unhappily, making him smile lightly, “But with the extras it becomes this.”

 

He watched as some of the hair held up by sticks of all things finally came down after a hard day and fell into the water, making her tut. “It is certainly one of the better drinks I have had. I did not expect these flavours to work so well. It is relaxing.” His free hand idly played with some strands of her mahogany hair and she unconsciously leant into it. He paused, not wanting to touch and make this world anymore real to him than it had to be, but was unable to resist _some_ release from the longing and sorrow he always carried with a woman and her beguiling smile.

 

He’d not been able to resist the more playful females even before all this in the time of the Evanuris, so now, carrying all this guilt and frustration at a sneaky plan gone awry, he wanted to release some anger.

 

Concentrate for one night on something that would be certain to bring him satisfaction.

 

He could allow himself that.

 

Fingers traced up her neck and tugged at the chopsticks and she allowed it, humming at the freeing of her hair and shuddering when he ran a hand through the fluffiness of her freshly dried strands. Her shoulders had reactively gone up when fingers went down again and she shied away with head tilting to protect her neck.

 

His eyebrows quirked up. “Ticklish?”

 

“Unfortunately so,” She grinned up at him ruefully.

 

Somehow it didn’t surprise him, and it gave her more charm and was easily winning him over against the small bit in him that still weakly said to turn away now.

 

Ivy licked her lips and finished the rest of her drink, putting it out of reach and fully turning to him, placing hands on the side of the tub. “Can I kiss you?”

 

“You can,” He murmured back with teasing.

 

The Scot groaned, leaning back whilst still holding onto the tub and shaking her head. “Noooo don’t do that can slash may word stuff with me, Solas. Just-” She was cut off by laughing lips pressing firmly against her own she huffed through her nose in amusement but pushed back into the kiss happily, humming her approval and lifting a hand to his cheek to keep him there. something he approved of, eyes closing and pushing more into her, the pair enjoying the new buzz between the,. Her own eyes drifted closed as she took him in, feeling the coolness of his body against his own warmer one, even in a bath and relaxed. He smelt good, felt just as good and she wanted more, pushing for a bit more quickness in her kiss as she tilted her head and gave a little light groan.

 

He grunted his agreement and his arms reach up unconsciously and tugged her closer, wanting to feel more of her against him. Desire pulsed in him when she sighed and focused only on him, hand slinking from him cheek to rub at a sensitive ear tip and then slink it down and over his shoulder, chest pressing against his with her breasts a soft cushion. He grunted again, longer and lower, almost a growl as he took her lower lip between his own and sucked at it, making her shudder and femininely moan and engage with more enthusiasm. He groaned when her hand trailed down his chest into the water and rubbed just above his erection, knuckles teasing against the shaft. “ _Woman,_ ” He muttered against her lips at her not gripping, impatiently excited.

 

She giggled to herself, breaking the kiss and mouthing his neck without sucking to make hickie-marks, tracing her teeth up and down in time with her fingertips that lightly pressed against his cock while her other hand rubbed at his very sensitive ear tip. She was deliberately slow, pulling the tempo back down to a more slow and sensual mood, candles helping with it greatly. She took in that he was average amongst human men though longer and slightly slimmer, able to fill her up veeeery nicely, and this meant he was probably quite big for an elf. Compared to the thinner cocks of the two other elf men she’d had she definitely thought he certainly was considered gifted.

 

She could't wait.

 

He hummed, delighting in the feelings, in her and her delicious scent that burned something in him. It brought about possessiveness and a need to taste her, a clamouring to keep her close and under his watchful eye.

 

Wanting to bring him pleasure, she rubbed a thumb over the head while using the other to undo the buttons to her breeches, enjoying the hum of pleasure he gave her. His ear quirked cutely at the rustle and he looked down before grabbing her hand, saw him wanting to rub her himself. So she let him, focusing instead on making his cock ache in need for her.

 

Something in the back of his mind rang at him and he wanted to acknowledge it but was far too busy trying to forget all alarms going off in his mind in the first place, so he ignored it. His mind was on her, watching her darkened eyes look upon him with a cheekiness that was also present in her grin and she pumped him with a twist at the top of his cock that rubbed against the head wonderfully and had him breathing out loudly, groaning deeply at the zing up his spine it created.

 

She felt him harden further, and with a quick look and satisfied smirk, she saw his veins on the shaft signifying he was straining and ready to shove himself inside her.

 

Perfect.

 

She flicked the tip of the sensitive head slick with his pre-come and was about to lick at it when his hand was suddenly burrowing into her breeches, testing her wetness and upoon finding it acceptable, rammed three fingers right up into her. She gasped and fell forward with a whimper, grasping onto the side of the tub over him and her body quivered when he slowly pumped his fingers in crooking motions and she made little feminine sounds of want with each pump of his fingers into her and making her cream over his digits. His cock pressed against her stomach in this position and she laughed breathlessly when he took his fingers out slowly with a smirk, showing her the slick between his fingers, dangling lewdly between each fingertip.

 

“Was not expecting that, damn, _yes please_ , can I have some more please?” She joked breathlessly.

 

He chuckled. “Ivy.”

 

“Solas.” Ivy returned in kind and brought her finger up, candlelight making the translucent white of his liquid glisten. The tip of her tongue licked against the liquid as he copied, eyes on each other’s tongues. At the taste of the salty flavour mixing with a headiness she’d never known a guy to have as well as the hint of something that had her hooked instantly, she shuddered.

 

She wanted _more._

_Now._

 

Solas tasted her flavour, something meaty and tangy and brilliantly lighting up his taste buds and making him want to rip those damnable breeches off instantly. He suddenly knew what this was, had gone through it twice before, but not quite to such a height or addictiveness. Powerful Elvhen such as he, nothing like that of the elves now, knew when a physically and mentally excellent partner was around by scent alone. That he’d failed to take in that when he’d met her, even thought on how odd it was to instantly get along with her without awkwardness, was due to his lack of magic and reawakening.

 

It had to go to baseness for him to understand this.

 

The last two he’d stayed with for hundreds of years, and very happily too, before they’d died.

 

_But she was human._

 

How was this possible?

 

It didn’t matter. His body wanted to claim, his mind was set on bringing her utter pleasure in this private moment and he was lost in the joyous emotions on finding a being that fit him better than any other had. Occurrences like this were why beings like Mythal and Elger’nan stayed together this whole time. He found it now and was honoured for it. Culture dictate he instantly court her because all of him would want to anyway and it would bring honour and bounteousness and happiness to them both, but he held back from that.

 

He would give and take only pleasure from her body and not her wonderful emotions that would keep him satiated in a way he needed.

 

Would not let anything develop into more.

 

Not when he’d rip her world away.

 

That was far too unkind to both of them.

 

Regardless, he licked up all her juices with a loud groan and watched her eyes light up as well as her lascivious grin.

 

He’d make a big deal out of their bodies being one and making sure she got the utmost pleasure because he would not do anything else more he would certainly want with her. He would respect the sanctity of mates and the family that should derive from that by not partaking in it at all for if he did so, in his eyes, he was dishonouring her – because he’d wipe it all away with remorse. It would dishonour only him by refusing this because she was already acting how a partner would.

 

She was about to lean forward and capture his lips and he was halfway to dragging her into the tub and getting them both wet when the door went.

 

“Mage! The marked one needs your healing! Now!”

 

Ivy looked up in disbelief. “Oh you are having an absolute _giggle_ , world.”

 

Solas’s head fell against hers, cheek to cheek, chuckling because otherwise he’d be growling in fury at the interruption.

 

Breathing her in, enjoying the lust and heat and scent of brandy-mead and her presence, he completely agreed.

 

His new mate.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup! Hope you liked!
> 
> Also!!! Thank you so much for all these Kudos! I didn't think it'd garner that many likes but thank you so much! For those that haven't, a simple kudos click makes an authors day, so go right on ahead on kudos this, darlings! If you liked this chappie, throw a comment! Even a few words make me happy!! Thanks to all who have kudos'ed and bookmarked so far, you're great! And to those that commented, thank you so much! I like replying to my comments, so if you have something that's along the lines of grammar problems, do tell! Or you just liked something, then hey, throw a comment, there may be more of it just because you said it :D
> 
> Much love x
> 
> 03/09


	3. Enlisting

 

 

 

**Chapter Three**

 

 

Cassandra.

 

Ivy sighed out in frustration at being unbelievably worked up without release in sight and got up to answer the door, taking her poets top off that was partly sopping wet and flinging it next to her bed. First she went to the desk and grabbed her book, second she went to the partition and drew it closed, so Solas could dry up and change in privacy (reminding him she had nothing to do with Arlathan, wasn't enslaved, and that she did so by her own wish to and making him pause for a second that a human would do so for an elf in this day and age) and then finally she went to the door, book under arm as she buttoned up her breeches and grabbed a fur throw on her bed, chucking it on. The woman was about to bang again but Ivy opened the door with narrowed eyes. “Yes?”

 

“Hunter. The mage needs to tend to the marked Dalish before her hand bursts apart! Mage!” Cassandra came into the cabin and was about to go over to the divide.

 

Ivy grasped her around the upper arm to halt her advance. “Well if you could possibly wait a couple minutes for him to finish drying and clothing after his rather short bath, you’d get him.” Then her eyes widened in fake realisation. “Unless you wish to see Solas naked? My, but now we know why the Pentaghast clan are no longer considered the number one dragon hunters in the world, now, don’t we? Too busy peeping on bathing males!” She snickered, smiling gleefully when the taller woman was all too quick to deny it, completely flustered and galled by the comment.

 

Cassandra interrupts  _her_  bit of slap and tickle?

 

She was getting insulted from Ivy’s sheer irritation at being denied some hanky panky.

 

“I am not! N-Never would I-!”

 

“Seeker, I shall be out in a minute. Please refrain from shouting at my companion.”

 

Ivy smiled to herself and went down to the other desk, sitting with her book on, of course, dragons. This one had her personal notes in and it rather quickly absorbed her in when she clicked onto something. “It did leave that type of trail back there to come around here…”

 

Cassandra frowned a little, asking seriously, “You still believe there is a dragon around here?”

 

“I know there is. Dragon patterns are confusing, if you do not understand them and their ways and likes and dislikes and migration patterns and- well other things,” Ivy said, noting that she was losing her audience of one. “It all adds up and makes a clear defined set of patterns and rules and predictable- yes, Cassandra. I do know there is one around and understand multiple why’s and when’s and what’s, not many do.”

 

“And I suppose you do?”

 

“Of course, as I said I do. I am a draconologist. This is what I do. It’s why I came here in the first place.”

 

“And the second time?”

 

“Couldn’t help it, the thought of being able to find an as of yet unidentified high dragon that others haven’t gets me going. To be the first? Ohhhh yes. Sign me up, baby.” She winked at the Seeker whose lips twitched up a tad. “Not to mention if I went back I’d likely be sent out again with some other clinger-on they'd put upon me as an annoying apprentice they don't want. Best to stick here for now. But then I also get to be at the site of the Veil all crumpled and weak between two worlds? Brings lots of infamy to the University - and a better livelihood for me.”

 

“As if the University of Orlais needs more infamy with dragons. It is almost an expectation another high dragon will be taken down every month in their name.” Cassandra gave her a look.

 

“We do our best to keep up our excellent standards,” Ivy demurred with bright eyes and a knowing smile, making the Seeker huff in some small amount of amusement, knowing why.

 

“Seeker.” Solas emerged, with even his coat and wolf pelt on. His eyes flicked to the dragon lover, looking him over and tonguing her canine with heat in her eyes from knowing what was hidden underneath as she eyed him up and down. He felt himself throb at the utterly lustfully appreciating stare that made him want to swagger like a youth. He’d forgotten this pull of attraction to another that replied with the same intensity, enjoyed it immensely even when he knew he shouldn’t.

 

Ivy’s lips quirked up when her eyes dipped down to the well-hidden groin via that pelt of his.

 

Didn’t  _she_  know why!

 

Her head ducked as her grin widened further, peeking up at him playfully through lashes and making his right ear twitch at her playful stare.

 

“Solas, yes? Apologies for interrupting, but you are needed immediately.”

 

There was urgency in Cassandra's tone so he nodded solomnly with all due respect to it. “Please, lead on.” He turned to the woman he’d almost tasted fully as the Seeker left. Seeing her with a victorious little grin on her face lit the passion in him for her once more. He gave a short bow. “ _Ivy._ ”

 

“ _Solas_ , I hope for the best for our marked lady.” She gave a short bow back and nodded and then chucked him the key as she stood. “Lock it on the way out, would you? I could do with another bath now I have it there.” She winked and went to the partition and moved behind it.

 

He watched her for a moment, hearing the unravelling of clothing that made his lips part, hand slowly clenching possessively around the key, before she disappeared and then left the cabin with the Seeker, smiling as he locked it behind him. He disliked feeling so satisfied with being the only one to be able get to her, but there it was. His eyes flickered backwards one more time and he rubbed a thumb up and down the key before placing it in his pocket and walking slightly behind the human as they swiftly went to the Chantry prison.

 

It seemed to burn a hole in his pocket from its presence.

 

Ivy, for her part, went to bed and yelled into the pillow a solid counted minute later, “Bloody fuckin’ goddamnit!”

 

After a moment of aggressively staring up at the ceiling, she sighed and set about preparing the room for sleeping in. It took all of two minutes for her to get the hell up and start doing some martial arts practise in her room to burn off the energy, knowing she’d feel completely unsatisfied if she finished herself off.

 

_She could really do with him finishing her off._

 

Then she cursed and went faster at the thought of his fingers crooking inside of her, working up a sweat to justify another bath.

  

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day came quickly enough and Ivy grumbled something unsavoury in Chinese before kicking the sheets off her body with a foot and then stared at the wall blurrily.

 

Right.

 

Haven.

 

Yeah.

 

She rubbed her face and smacked her cheeks lightly a couple times before going off to her desk which held her bags. Grabbing her clothing, her bag of grooming items and a water skin, the woman shoved on boots and her cloak and went to the outhouse. Ten minutes later and she came back a bit more fresh faced, fully clothed and hair and teeth brushed, and dumped stuff back on her desk. She grabbed it and used it to hold onto as she leaned back to crack her spine, then leaned her head one way to stretch and then followed with the next side, knowing she was being watched as her companion fuzzily got out of bed.

 

A twitch of the lip and she pushed her butt out, stretching her back out to form a straight line with her body, from her arms to her butt and cracked her spine again, humming at the relief. She rose, but a body covered hers and kept her down.

 

His mouth bit onto her neck. “You look like a tasty morsel I want to devour; and we  _never finished,_ ” He grumbled. His hand drew up the front of her thigh and cupped her womanhood. “I never got to  _eat_.”

 

“No-ho-hooo!” She laugh-moaned. “A pun?!” She groaned out as his other hand settled over her other one on the table, fingers entwining and making both her heart and groin flutter at the encompassing act and he chuckled. “Why would you pun at a time like  _this?_ ”

 

“May I?”

 

“If you  _can_ ,” She mocked the earlier conversation only to yip when he playfully nipped her ear, surprising her. “What, you  _can’t?_ ” Another nip, but she snickered and slinked her hand around and tugged at the belt to his breeches. “I want to make you feel just as good, Solas.”

 

He wanted her flavour on his tongue, decadent and tangy and flowing, and he rubbed lightly, taking his time. “I was called out on you. Let me-”

 

“Prof! The Left Hand Leliana requires your presence!”

 

Ivy pushed up from the table in disbelief. “Oh no no no, this is  _not_  becoming a  _thing_.” She stormed to the door and yoinked it open. “ _What?_ ”

 

Solas breathed out in his own annoyance, adjusting his erection into his belt to hide himself and sat at the desk.

 

Guard two thousand something-something-something blinked at her, taken aback by the glowering woman. “L-Lady Leli-uh-Leliana requests your presence? Now?”

 

“Alright.” She slammed the door closed. She went over to Solas, swiftly tilted his chair to one leg and swirled him around to face her. “One day we will have sex. And it will be absolutely marvellous and I will enjoy every damn moment of feeling you in me, thrusting away until we can’t think from exhaustion and coming so much.” His eyes darkened and she widened her grin, making it devilish. “Today is clearly not that day. But.” She leaned forward and kissed him hard for a few seconds. She fell into the kiss, delighting in his flavour and firm lips taking control of the pace.

 

He gripped her waist, enjoying every moment he could take as a shudder went down his spine. He grunted when she pulled back, wanting to capture her lips once more, following to leave little kisses on them but gave a soft smirk when she femininely laughed gently at him and joined in once more. He liked her sighing into the kiss, cupping his cheek and the feeling of still dangling on one leg of the chair made him want to turn the tables on her, but she moved back once more.

 

The martial artist looked at him, red-lipped, dark-eyed and completely focused on only her and she groaned, putting her forehead to his. “But you look so damn good! I don’t want to go!” She whined laughingly.

 

He chuckled, knowing the feeling. “The sooner you go, the sooner you come back and we can continue this.”

 

Ivy pulled back fully and remarked, “Solas, don’t speak logically to me, my vagina can’t take it.” She grinned at his laugh. She walked over to her coat and cloak and weapons, putting them all on correctly. She doubled checked her small daggers as well as her main two she laid in an x on top of her hips and nodded, grabbing a bag just in case. “Hey, if you could get some cider, I can make us that mulled drink again tonight?” She offered hopefully, knowing they were still quite strangers to each other and not wanting to intrude and impress herself upon another.

 

Solas heard the tentativeness in an undercurrent of her voice and kindly replied, “I’ll be sure to even have a bath waiting.” He could use his magic later on and keep the heat at whatever temperature she wished. He’d only used the hot water from the cauldron because she’d had it prepared and it would be impolite to do otherwise when she’d put the effort in.

 

Ivy smiled to herself as she took her correspondence from her desk before giving him a grateful grin. “Thank you.” She nodded, bowing slightly, and left him to it, letters in hand and feeling his eyes on her back.

 

When she walked into the Chantry, she was instantly guided to her meeting by a scout of Leliana’s to see the Left Hand herself going over multiple letters. The redhead seemed stressed, which was of no surprise considering her mentor and mother-figure had just been killed and she had many people counting on her. The bard looked up and her shoulders dropped in relief. “I am so very glad you came back. I wish to barter for your services. We have many young and only partly experienced soldiers and scouts and you have some of the most well trained groups that go after dragons with the best chances at success.”

 

“My current job here is to find the dragon, kill it if it proves to be a torment to local villages, but otherwise document it and make sure numbers are not too high. I will forever be going back and forth between here and Val Royeaux and this job will tie me down here. No.”

 

Leliana pursed her lips but otherwise remained unaffected, going through some of her documentation and lifting one up for her perusal.

 

Ivy took it and read over it as Josephine came in, Ivy sparing her and her unusual but charming hand held note board contraption only a short glance and polite nod. So that was why Solas talked of demons. They were coming out of the… rifts? There were  _rifts_  now? No just a Breach? She read it over again carefully. Still… “Leliana, do you know how many high dragons are out there?”

 

“No.”

 

“How many drakes that follow them to mate and protect the clutches and kill surrounded species for food for the high dragon mother?”

 

“No.”

 

“How many dragonlings they spawn at a time?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then you have no idea how much work I actually do, excluding research and travel and bartering alone. There are other wandering sell-swords and merc groups. Some even brave enough to look at the Breach and not run shrieking.”

 

“We can always give you assistants,” Josephine said, gold clothing sparkling from the candle-light on her noteboard.

 

“You have troops here that know how to fight. The few demons I’ve fought are surprisingly akin to us lot on the other side of the Veil. Your men could take them down under that Commander Cullen I’ve seen out there. He is good. Trust in him.”

 

The Antivan smiled and bowed her head. “He is very good at what he does. And such lovely hair.”

 

Ivy nodded. “He’s certainly handsome. Listen. There are at least thirty high dragons in Fereldan alone. Yes. Thirty. Half of them sleep most of the month. I personally followed the lives of eight before coming here.” Ivy let that sink in, watching their eyes widen in astonishment. “And the few of us that do hunt them down do far more than just  _kill_. It is an ecosystem that must be protected for the good of all. Inclusive of protecting the high dragon and her sects as well. Do you know how many people can even see a  _dragonling_  and not piss themselves? Barely any. You have men out there will to get revenge on killed allies. They could never look at a high dragon on the first go without shitting themselves. I know I threw up in fear and cried. It’s not shameful, but it’s hard to recruit dragon hunters that will make a lifetimes work on them.”

 

Leliana tried another tactic as she began writing something up. “If the Breach cannot be closed, it matters not about the dragons.”

 

“And until the Breach closes, high dragons and the rest of their hierarchy will continue to devastate the lands and trade routes and cause less troops as a whole for you to use against this unless people like me stop them. People will flee in fear from both types of attacks. People can take down a demon that’s their size – not many can look at some ten times their height and be stupid enough like me to take it on. People can do the troop job here; there’s only a handful of us to protect the masses at large that actually want to do this - and even less of us that carry the name well to pull the few brave under our banner. As one of them, I cannot turn away from that responsibility, especially when I’m still considered young enough to go hunting for them.”

 

“But the dragon you seek is here, yes? Why not kill two birds with one stone? Protect and train the troops until it arrives. Like you say, they could not look at a high dragon. Train them up to do so, your own specialist group,” Josephine mentioned. “You will be paid for both, protecting and training. Three lines of money coming in if you include that from your work at the University.”

 

“The sodded few idiots like me that would actually dare do so?” Ivy mused, making Leliana smile in amusement. “So, have no time and be all heroic, or go back home to Val Royeaux and chase after dragons as per usual and actually be safer? And then here I do lose the profit that come from selling off expensive dragon parts which is more than all three avenues of revenue put together but intermittent…” Ivy murmured, closing her eyes and thinking.

 

It’d been years in the University, with her here on Thedas for over a decade. The first two years had been full of stealing for food and protecting herself and earning a name in the gutters of the posh city, learning Orlesian and Antivan and their written languages plus the new written language of Common instead of English and gaining some small links of people that would scratch each other’s backs. The following two years had been her role as Frederic’s guard and the next six and a half, nearly seven had been as an expert dragon hunter in her own right, travelling all over the continent.

 

She’d never settled down anywhere.

 

She longed for a home, like the one she had for two decades back in Scotland, like the one back in China for another decade.

 

The only permanent companion she’d had was Frederik, that one was slightly a bit too crazy about dragons and thought of nothing else, and Lealos, a hart, and… huh. Okay, so she was a bit lonely and wanting somewhere to put roots. Was that so bad that maybe it could be here - while also using her skills to protect like it made her satisfied in life to do?

 

Not to mention it wasn’t the only reason she was interested in moving on from Val Royeaux soon, even if it had become a place that she could deem headquarters.

 

“Fine. Now we barter.”

 

Leliana placed down a piece of paper, ink starting to dry.

 

Ivy blinked, noting the basic lines of what she’d do whilst in Haven, what she’d get paid, and what would come in for free, inclusive of two assistants. She wouldn’t use them, keeping her business private, but maybe she could use them as gophers or something if they were forced on her. “Now we don’t barter. You are generous. Accepted.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

The dragon hunter took out her stamp, something both Leliana and Josephine leant forward to admire. It was made from dragon bone and crafted by the best of Val Royeaux’s sculptors and was of her favoured Kaltenzahn breed. They were the longest fights, but it’d been the first she’d taken down without any other dragon hunter mentoring her with only a small courageous company. It was also imbued with magic. The stamp came to life at the press of its tongue and she pressed it down onto the page, letting the bottom of it hiss and burn into it and pulled away. It gleamed a neon burning blue before the page throbbed and shone twice before becoming normal.

 

“That was one of the Tevinter makes,” Leliana said, envious but awed.

 

“I know a couple of people in Val Royeaux,” Ivy winked.

 

Josephine and Leliana were enamoured, the Antivan asking, “What did that do?”

 

“Neither of us can change the contract and nor can it be burned or broken until completed. If something gets voided,” Ivy held her hand out to Leliana and the woman took it, the pair of them feeling a tingle go up their arms. “Then both of us will feel that again. Tevinter Magisters do some nice work sometimes. This ones’ creator prefers to stay hidden. Work and magic like this is only supposed to be in the Magisterium’s grasp and works upon intent from both the contract makers. But they have had this type of craftsmanship for decades and decades, so it may be Elvhen in origin.”

 

“Can we study it?” Josephine stated.

 

“Only when you do something that  _seriously_  impresses me. You know, the high dragon hunter.”

 

“Is it not powered by magic?”

         

“I can use it without being a mage, but I have been sprayed over with everything dragon from piss and shit to blood and guts and they’re pretty magical with lightning and all types of magical dragon breath. It could be from that. Dragon anything is either highly resistant, such as scale and hide and lungs, or highly conductive, such as the throat, brain, heart and secondary lung sacs. Plus I've eaten lots of dragon. Tasty.” She put it away.

 

They grimaced but it was Leliana that chuckled first. “I am glad to have you here. It is a relief to have someone of experience. I am sending out scouts to check the mountain for more rifts opening now. Go with them and protect them until they come back. Dragons like magic, yes?”

 

“They do. It will hopefully pull out the dragon from its hideaway… though a downside will be humungous wells of magic awakening other dragons. I have agreed to this,” Ivy folded the contract and gave it to the spymaster trustingly, “But I do ask you send me on any dragon related quests regardless of what you feel I will be better suited for.”

 

Leliana took that action for what it was, grasping the parchment. “I will.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Here.” Leliana handed a note. “For the Lieutenant.”

 

“Again, thank you. Also, I need some letters sent to Val Royeaux. How much per bird is the delivery fee?”

 

A giggle, and Josephine led her to a rookery, starting up an enthused conversation.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deleted this chappie by accident, ugh. Still the same, I promise x
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos! 05/09


	4. Heralding the Herald

 

 

**Chapter Four**

 

 

 

The scouting group went up the mountain side warily, cautious of falls. Ivy wrapped her cloak a mite tighter around her, wondering why the other scouts had not bothered on bringing their own, as well as extra food supplies of dried meats and fruits and some herbs, too. The mountain here was famed for its’ Frostheight Mushrooms, which she’d picked a bunch of on the way. Scouting expeditions usually took a day or two, after all. Especially as they were on a mountain with steep cliffs. Plus they’d be fighting demons from the Fade, so mapping out the opening rifts would take longer.

 

Luckily there seemed to be only one.

 

So far.

 

 _Seemed to be_ didn’t matter – the Breach loved to start flinging out demons like it was going out of fashion and another two scouting parties had dealt with those.

 

That wasn’t the only thing concerning Ivy.

 

Her bright eyes settled upon a rather short scout’s back. She took in the bad fit of the uniform, how the cowl on their head sank low, the slim of their shoulders and the lack of pointed ears. A kid. She wouldn’t bring it up, but certainly would protect him more regardless. He’d said nothing, unlike one or two of the others raring to go kill some demons and slightly pushing at the Lieutenant disrespectfully to go find some for them.

 

Ivy shook her head and carried on walking behind them all.

 

If this group was her best bet of a group that was to be created to be fellow dragon watchers for the Inquisition (and potentially making an advanced draconologist advisor Leliana requested that Ivy was all for), she wasn’t really feeling good at the odds.

 

She pulled her hood over her head and tugged her scarf up and around her lower face up even higher.

 

“We’ll see.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

Dirt crashed up at the blast of green slamming by them, scouts yelling in alarm as demons came through.

 

Ivy waited to see what they’d do.

 

To the Scots surprise, it was the kid that reacted the best, dodging out the way of a rage demon's punch and shakily taking his sword out. It was too big for him, but he had some kind of training it seemed. He was quickly being her favoured one. They weren’t overwhelmed, maybe one lesser to each of them so she mainly watched them all to observe their talents and instinctive responses. Ivy let them gain experience, blocking slices from the sides that she felt would harm them too much.

 

She watched a couple of the men and women fight as she circled the group, stepping backwards to easily get out the path of claws and with a snap of her arm she sliced the demon open. She stabbed into the gash and twisted, killing it instantly then swiftly ducking and slanting a slice through a lesser terror demon and its arm flopped to the ground uselessly. It screeched its agony, the sound clawing at her teeth and making her close one eye at the gritty ache it sent through her head but her dagger lashed out and carved its way through the neck, silencing it immediately and loping off the heads of more terror demons at the next swing. She turned around, seeing some stare at her in disbelief at her quickness.

 

But it was Kid taking out the last demon like he had something to prove that caught her attention.

 

Huh

 

Maybe he did?

 

Her lips tilted up.

 

Interesting.

 

Time to investigate.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

 

They’d tracked down one more area of demons before a mine up in the mountains that led to the top of the exploded Temple. It didn’t spew out that many demons, maybe a couple at a time every few hours, so for the next day Ivy trained, washed herself and her weapons by melting snow over a fire and made sure her little group was fine. She walked up to them, nodded, promptly scooped up Kid over her shoulder and took him out the camp that faced the next part of their journey.

 

“Hey! Let me go!”

 

Ivy stood corrected at the feel of Kid over her shoulder.

 

Kid was a girl.

 

From Val Royeaux with that accent.

 

She dropped the kid onto her feet, watching her stumble before correcting her balance and glowered up at the amused older woman. “What’s with the handling?! I’m not a child!”

 

Ivy raised her brows and said through her scarf, “Funny, considering I’m rather sure you’re ten.”

 

“I’m fif-” She snapped and cut herself off, going red and galled at giving away things in the heat of her offence at being manhandled.

 

“Uh huh. There’s your first lesson as a fighter. Don’t let your anger control you. No matter the scenario. Internalise that.”

 

Green eyes flared. “I didn’t-”

 

“Here’s your second – learn to take good critique from a more experienced fighter gracefully,” The Scot interrupted bluntly, wry in tone. “Three, learn some humility, kid, your _noble_ is showing.”

 

Her mouth floundered in shock she was found out so quickly. “How did you know?”

 

“Compare yourself to other girls your age.”

 

The noble daughter snorted and crossed her arms. “As if I wish to be associated with such air-headed giggling fools!”

 

“Yet you have thrown your lot in with them. Four, fit in if you wish to stay unseen.” Ivy looked from the more expensive cut of the kids clothing, with tiny embellishments no other common folk would be able to afford or would want to when there were hungry mouths to feed. “Your differences are obvious and you are clinging too much to that noble life to fully incorporate yourself into the life of a simple foot soldier. Five, don’t look down at others, understand them. Why are you _here?_ ”

 

“I want to be a Templar!”

 

The Scot stared at her incredulously. “You want to be a lyrium addict? Six, _don’t be a lyrium addict._ ”

 

Kid flinched. “If I- If I have to!”

 

“Whatever for?”

 

“My little brother is a mage but my parents don’t know yet,” She mumbled, shoulders slumping. “If I can be a Templar, he won’t have to go to that stupid Circle when they build it up again. I can look after him…”

 

Ivy understood that, approving of such family loyalty, though she supposed the noble parents may not think that way. Ivy hadn’t instantly recognised her, so that meant she was one of the lesser noble families that would try to strategically marry their daughter up. “I sure as heck don’t want those Circles back up. Seven, think it through when you have the chance. You know there are reports of mages and Templars having gone rogue and murdering each other out there, right? You become a Templar and kid, with your current level of sword-work? You’ll be dead quickly. I’m thinking that the best thing for you to do is stick with _this_ for now.”

 

“Why? I came here hoping to get an apprenticeship with one of the Templars!”

 

“Ah. Because they’d be all meeting here and swelling the ranks against all the mages would have you taken in quickly, regardless of background. Good thinking. I like it. But now? That’s changed. This is the force that is left over now. You have your group, work with them instead of standing back. Eight, adapt with the circumstances.”

 

“They’re useless in battle but for the Lieutenant and yourself. Didn’t you see when Xander tried to pull out his weapon and tried to monologue?”

 

Yes… yes she had.

 

She sighed out, “I was hoping to forget that, Kid. Thanks.”

 

Kid giggled, cracking a smile for the first time.

 

“He was an idiot but you can learn from idiots too.”

 

“What? How?”

 

“What not to do,” Ivy deadpanned, making Kid snort and giggle again. “Come on, we need to gear you out properly. It is ill fitting, and that causes unnecessary distractions and a better grip for your enemies to snag. Let that be lesson nine. Dress appropriately.” She winked at the girl, hood going up up once more.

 

“That one, I think I have learnt a lot.”

 

“Don’t doubt ya, noble.”

 

 

* * *

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

Ivy’s eyes widened and followed the green light when the Breach burst out a bolt of rift energy so fiercely she was sure that-

 

Rift.

 

Back at the overlook with her scouting group.

 

“ _Crap_.”

 

Adrenaline hit and she scarpered into a run, mind hardening against what she could possibly see. They’d been up here for another three and a half days, taking care of the miniature bursts of demons around the Breach waiting until another team of scouts took over as promised by a note two days ago, but there’d been no word from the forward camp. The green recruits spirits were lagging quicker than expected. Just before their rations slimmed down was when the Lieutenant and Ivy agreed was best they go back when on watch the first night, looking over their charges in disappointment.

 

They could both clearly see a few of them quitting and going back to farming or tailoring or what have you.

 

Ivy at least wanted to make sure they could make their way back from this terror.

 

It wasn’t a life for everyone, after all.

 

She rushed up the ladder and again up the next, swiftly coming up to the group that was larger than usual, racing over and blocking Kid’s undefended side from a terror demon’s vicious claws as that creepy bastard had screeched far too close to the girl and stunned her. She kicked out a knee of the demon, making it fall and sliced its head off the thinnest part of its neck, right under the base of the skull. Then the pair of them watched what could only be the mage with the mark go to reach up and use the power of it, arm jerking with the sheer power running through it and sealed it up after a moment of intense concentration.

 

“Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

 

Ivy perked up at that specific elf’s voice close to her once again as he went up to the marked elf.

 

“Let’s hope it works on the big one,” A dwarf stated sardonically.

 

The Lieutenant turned to her commanding officer and said in relief, “Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra. Our group was running low on food and morale. We’ve had no information for days to come back, so we’ve kept the area as clear as we could.”

 

“And you have done excellent work. Thank our prisoner, Lieutenant; she insisted we come this way.”

 

The Lieutenant raised her brows. “The prisoner?”

 

“A scouting group going so close to the danger? We couldn’t let such bravery go unpunished,” The elf stated with a confident voice, with neither an English, French, Italian, Irish or Welsh accent like nearly every single elf she’d ever met had.

 

It was… American?

 

Ivy stared, bemused.

 

Uh, what?

 

Yes, there were such accents here, but usually those were from humans, or surface dwarves that lived around them, never elves – and not elves with such self-assurance either.

 

 _Curious_.

 

Cassandra dismissed the scouting group with a, “The way into the valley is clear; go while you still can,” and turned to Ivy. She eyed her pointedly. “I do imagine it is _you?_ ”

 

Ivy took her cloak off and pressed it into Kid’s body, not seeing the way that Solas zeroed in on her with his eyes or how he grasped his staff to stop himself from moving to her side, swaying slightly as his ears perked up, nose twitching.

 

Varric did, however, wondering at that.

 

Chuckles had a crush on this new human woman?

 

Cute.

 

Good luck to him trying for a human as an apostate with strong opinions. He’ll need it.

 

“Rest back at the camp, and stay warm on the way there. I do expect that back.” She watched the small group go, knowing she’d seen them soon enough, but turned to the Seeker with a grin. “Cassandra, you say that like you didn’t miss me. You should be happy to see me here instead of my posterior swaggering straight on back to Val Royeaux.” She crossed her arms but put a finger to her chin and mischievously remarked, “Unless that was your plan all along, to watch my-”

 

“Enough!”

 

“As you say,” She replied playfully, grinning lightly at her. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a chance to sneak a peek more now, considering we’ll be working together.” She winked flirtatiously and turned to the new elf who had a big grin on her face when Cassandra let out a disgusted sound, utterly satisfying her. “Marked one, huh? Does the marked one have a name?”

 

“Ellana Lavellan. Just Lana, if you please.” The elf said with a smile, and Ivy took in the reddish lips, the bright cinnamon eyes and the almost luxurious flow of golden brown hair kept half up by braids on either side of her head. There was the inking on her face denoting Dalish worship of some god or another – Andruil, she thought - in light brown that melded well with her tanner skin. She wondered who they were actually in worship to though, a little unsure. She was dressed in the scouting clothing of the Dalish elves, bright green tunic coat, mossy green scarf and dark brown baggy breeches and matching boots.

 

Ivy brightened up. “Lana Lavellan? Huh! Oh, yeah, that’s fun to say! Nice! I like it. Name’s Ivy.” She looked to the dwarf. “And you are?”

 

“Varric Tethras, fellow prisoner under Cassandra’s Seeking ways.”

 

“Ugh.” Cassandra muttered at the slight.

 

Ivy gave the oh so ridiculously extravagant bow of noble Orlesians to the pair of them. “A pleasure to meet you both! Solas.” She smiled knowingly and nodded her head down for a few seconds before lifting it again.

 

Solas copied, eyes intent, “Ivy.”

 

She crossed her arms but waved one hand as she teased, “Didn’t take _all_ my good herbs, did you?”

 

His eyes twinkled at her, lips smiling warmly. “There may or may not possibly be a significantly less amount than before.”

 

“Ha!”

 

“Enough! We need to move on! To the ladder!”

 

Ivy nodded and followed Cassandra, the rest falling in. “Of course, but if my last moments before a conceivably big banging boom from the Breach buggers me backwards, I think I’d like my last moments to be light-hearted.”

 

“Hear, hear!” The dwarf agreed, coming up to her side. “I like your style.”

 

“Cheers!” Ivy grinned at him happily and slid down the ladders and then said thoughtfully as they all got down. “You know, I feel like I’ve heard your name before, Varric.”

 

“I’m a writer. Might be from that.”

 

She snickered, guiding him up to the exploded Temple. “I think that’s it, actually. But I don’t think it’s _that_ how.”

 

“What type of how would it be?” Lana asked curiously, head slightly tilted.

 

Ivy locked onto the back of Cassandra, who had stiffened obviously. “ _How_ do I know this name, _Cassandra?_ ”

 

" _Ugh._ "

 

“Bless your soul, Ivy, do I have a _fan?_ In my _jailor?_ ” Varric taunted eagerly, ready to get the digs in as Ivy grinned at him.

 

“Quiet back there,” Cassandra growled and they snickered at her expense, but all frivolity stopped when they reached the destroyed Temple of Sacred Ashes.

 

A solemn quietness settled over them as the trudged through the decimated ground. A wince came from them when they felt cracks under their feet and one of the body suddenly crumbled in the wind and the ash scattered. They went along a path silently, only to see the Breach itself, reaching up into the sky over them and malevolent as ever.

 

Varric whistled lowly then stated, “That’s a looong way up.”

 

“Can the mark reach that far away to lock it, Lana?”

 

The elf in question swallowed and replied in a tinier voice, “I hope so.”

 

Ivy slipped to her side and put an arm around her shoulder, “Don’t worry, lovely, we’ll close it up right tight. We’re on your side, hm? I’m sure we’ve all taken on way more growlier and bitier things than a light show. Count on us to deal with the demons while you close it up!” She squeezed her upper arm with a wide grin and got a wobbly one in reply. “Atta girl! It’ll be good to test that mark out on something big. And Solas here has been healing that mark of yours up as you sleep so you’ll be looked after should anything go amiss. Right?” She asked the man.

 

The elf himself came forward on Ivy’s other side, nodding as he spoke, “I will do all in my power to keep it stable and yourself healed, Miss Lavellan. We are excellent in what we do, and we shall protect you.”

 

Looking at the pair of them confident and ready and oddly matching, Lana nodded slowly and smiled, slightly more settled. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re here! Thank the Maker!”

 

Cassandra took control when she saw the other Hand of the Divine come up with a group of archers. “Have your men take up positions around the temple, Leliana!” She received a nod and the redhead barked orders at her men and the Seeker turned to Lana, who was staring up at the Breach, hand pulsing in matching waves. “This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”

 

The marked elf nodded shakily. “It’ll be done.”

 

Ivy let go of her and walked over to the Seeker and strongly said, “Cassandra, we should take the nearest point to it.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“No different from a dragon,” She mentioned lightly, playful, beginning to bounce on her feet to warm herself up.

 

Cassandra let a grudging smirk hit her lips as the two dragon ladies eyed each other in camaraderie. “Indeed.” They took out their blades, long sword of Cassandra's zweihander to Ivy's duel jian blades that had dangling charms from the hilts.

 

Solas followed when the blade wielders of the group jumped down with the marked Dalish and the scene of how Lana interrupted the one killing Divine Justinia happened and Cassandra turned on her. He interrupted this waste of time, “The Breach is not sealed properly. The Fade bleeds through. I believe with that mark, we can reopen it and seal it correctly. Questions can be asked later.”

 

Ever practical, Cassandra nodded and the group got in position.

 

“Ready when you are, fiddles!” Varric called out to Ellana.

 

A nod of determination, and Lana raised her hand and concentrated. A magnificent green neon beam zapped up to it and ensnared it. The gem like structures surged in and out of the Fade erratically at that, as if in sudden pain, with sweeping whooshes of paler glowing green swirling around it trying to knock it away before her mark overpowered it. As if in revenge, a bolt shunted out. Their eyes followed it to its landing position, and unfortunately placed soldiers jumped out of the way with curses and cries of fear as something _huge_ came out of it. Bestial and grey and spikes along its insanely muscular form, it was like a beefed out twenty foot minotaur. The people surrounding it only came up to its knee and the hits with their swords merely scraped it.

 

It kicked at them, breaking ribs of a couple and sending them flying.

 

Ivy grinned widely, adrenaline and respectful awe mixing up in her and making her tremor. A quick look to the Seeker had her acknowledging she was in the same state before they looked back at the cackling demon when it boomed its’ laugh out. With a final look at each other as adrenaline _burned_ in them they burst into a run, blazing past the forces present and stabbing it in the left leg from both sides. It roared in annoyance and they easily dodged its’ irritated slapping and stomping, but that distraction gave Lana enough time to disrupt the rift with a grunt of exhaustion that throbbed her body and weakened her knees.

 

Varric swiftly eyed her before snapping his eyes back when the demon cried out at the loss of its immunity as arrows broached its weakened body. “It’s vulnerable!” He shot at it, reloading as quickly as possible.

 

“Shoot it!”

 

Ivy temporarily put blades away and crawled up the left side as it went to stomp on them, distracting the demon from the surrounding members that all began to attack its lower half in earnest while the archers went for its stomach. Climbing it was easy; so many ridges and spikes made excellent handholds and she swung when it tried to spin her off but didn’t falter in her grip, used to crazier dragons. She crawled to its head when it focused on a particularly ruthless cut to the ankle, clinging to a horn with her legs and lifted a blade from her sheath only to stab it viciously in the eye and twist, hoping to reach brain. It screeched its fury and agony, shaking its head desperately and she held on tightly, mind whizzing insanely.

 

The rift flared in reaction to its plight and a chink was heard as the spikes gleamed. With a curse, the Montgomery jumped down its back. Ivy landed and demanded, “Move back! It’s impenetrable again!” She moved through the squadron with them, parting them in two and looking up at the archers. “Left half of swordsmen and archers! Distract it over there with Cassandra! NOW!” With a cry, they did as bid, shifting it away from the marked elf. “LANA! NOW!”

 

“Just a moment!” Lana called out, forcing her body to use the power in her left hand and feeling it start to shake; the Breach was no trivial power and she was not trained in the slightest. This drained her quickly, black spots began to glitter in her vision. But these people _needed_ her. She had to keep going. She had to block off these demons entry into this world. She fell to her knees, trembling in pain.

 

This time the troops took the advantage, roaring back at it and stabbing where they could.

 

Another resounding _'chink_ ' came a few, long, crazed moments later and the men fell back, Cassandra and Ivy going right on in again to fight it and showing others why they were renowned as the Grand Hero and the Professor Hunter of Orlais.

 

Lana responded to it, nodding to no-one, and concentrated even as she could hear her blood pound in her ears, her vision fading in and out and her body begin to shake as the mark and her magic battled with each other and make her muscles throb in pulsing ache.

 

“It’s dead!”

 

“ _Lana,_ ” Ivy commanded as she came over, but she didn’t have to, watching in marvel as she closed the Breach. “You wondrous… Ah!” She put the blades away swiftly and grabbed her with both hands as Lana fainted, body exhausted and trembling, even in unconsciousness. Her head snapped around to see the state of the fight before her, but demons were being cut down all over the room, ready to defend the girl. Suddenly Solas blocked her view of it all and she looked up at him in relief. “Solas?”

 

Already the elf mages hand glowed a light blue-green, soothing and calming in hue, over the pair of them. Solas quickly changed it to just being over Lana when he found Ivy was barely sweating and clearly fine. “Her body cannot take the full brunt of it right now. Multiple factors add to it, but the fact remains that this mark has consequences on her and she is new to all of this.” He felt pride when she sighed in relief and gave him a thankful look, grasping his hand.

 

“So she is simply exhausted, just in a few different ways then?” She questioned.

 

He squeezed back, feeling good when she sighed out and nodded as he said, “Yes. She will be fine.”

 

Ivy smiled, relieved and her shoulders dropped. “Good.” Lana was taken off her hands by Cassandra and Leliana and the pair of them watched her go, Ivy standing up beside him with a sigh. The Scot didn't see him slant in her direction or breathe her in and neither did she feel herself slink to his closest side for comfort from a companion. She lightly touched his forearm in concern, looking up at him with a little frown. “And you? You are fine? I did not follow your moves in battle.”

 

He placed a gentle hand over hers, taking in her warm and citrusy base scent and guiltily finding comfort in it. Especially when he smelt the fact she cleaned regularly, unlike most humans, and she was almost sweet in her scent in a way Elvhen never had been. “A few demons were trivial to me. It is the troops who won the fight this day. We should follow.”

 

A smile and a nod and she moved her hand away after squeezing warmly. “Let’s.”

 

The heat of her remained in his hand.

 

And his eyes remained on the back of her head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally going along with the plot of the game!
> 
> For my own reference, posted 10/09.


	5. Sorting Things Out

 

 

** Chapter Five **

 

 

 

Cullen looked a tad nervous.

 

Ivy only smiled apologetically at Lana who was pursing her lips back at her, a good week after the Breach failed to be sealed. “I do not know what else to say, Lana. My contract is with-”

 

“Leliana, I know, but I’ll need someone like you out there to fight with!”

 

The Scot was annoyed internally at her almost childish persistence even though she kept a bland grin on her face, so her thoughts were uncharitably along the lines of, ‘ _to protect your weak arse more like_ ’ and she quickly banished the thought. This Dalish elf had done nothing to her personally so that was rude. It was just… Ivy had no real reason to _go_ and she was just _annoying_ her by not dropping it. And she was Dalish. The Dalish irritated her from past run-ins with them and she couldn’t help her irritation being quicker to draw forth. Troops here would need to be trained and she was currently under direct command of Spymaster Leliana – unless Commander Cullen was in control of her actions. Which, as of today as she helped with preparing the new troops for proper combat, he was.

 

Which was why he was shifting about.

 

Then there was the fact some of the men were beginning to watch this, as well as the few travelling companions she had behind her. Time to shut this down. “You have more than adequate protection, my dear. You’ve an excellent crossbowman with just as excellent an aim, a mage with expertise in the Fade as well as in healing magic and a woman of complete fortitude and skill whose shield will not let you down. Your safety is assured. Also, a contingent going with you have an experience the men here do not have and those that remain require skills to be taught unto them for their own protection and defence of the village. And defence of the Inquisition, which is more than just one of the main parts.”

 

“But-”

 

“Yeah, I’d stop here and give in, fiddles.” Varric coughed as Lana turned to him, glaring. “Anything you say in reply will not look good on you now. Trust me. She’s Val Royeaux.”

 

“Templars and mages are killing each other while we dally about here,” Solas stated, slight annoyance in his tone signifying he was actually more than just slightly aggravated, “As well as injured that could otherwise be saved dying.”

 

That seemed to make the Dalish elf wince.

 

“We leave, _now,_ ” Cassandra demanded and then looked between the two females. “We will talk on this when we get back to Haven.”

 

“Of course. When our battalions are less flailing and more fighting, then I’ll come with you, Lana,” Ivy guaranteed. “For now, I wish you all good luck and swift feet. And do come back unharmed, people. It would be a damn shame to lose you all.” She gave a short bow to them and walked away to go have a meeting with fellow trainers.

 

Due to having drinks and sharing links with Leliana, she knew a few things that were happening in advance. Mother Giselle would wish for the Inquisition to help with Chantry business and Ivy wondered how Lana would take that, being Dalish, but she _was_ now part of a Chantry based force. It was inevitable the Inquisition would have to deal with them. With the Chantry denouncing them, they would need to reverse that. With the remaining Clerics doing the mad rush around to find someone in clear charge, now was the best time before they could galvanise themselves as one coherent force.

 

With the Hinterlands in the broken state it was, there’d be weeks of work there so the Inquisition gained a sure foothold in the local area – it wouldn’t do to have people on their own doorstep against them, of course. This would mean their projected power would be actual power instead of just words, smoke and mirrors.

 

Hopefully Lana would use her resources wisely, divide the forces she had up to do different jobs and come back quickly.

 

Ivy could only hope for the best for them all.

 

Leliana informed her they’d be off to Val Royeaux soon enough, so Ivy was preparing herself, sending off messages to the University about reappearing soon to give in a couple essays to be academically ripped apart by her fellow draconologists, to nobles, and traders, and her artistes and to her household staff to prepare.

 

Yes, she had those.

 

Her home was large, and one of the staff had a great idea to make a mini museum out of her dragon collection, smaller and cheaper priced than the one in the University but also open consistently on three days, with private tours on the fourth if the money was right and she was there. Several rooms were dedicated to it with thoughtfully written notes from Ivy herself in three languages. The money went on upkeep of the collection, pay to the staff with extra bonuses for various things and extra gifts on each culture day of all the beings personal holidays, so the staff was very keen on not losing such a well-paid job and quite protective over her household. Many doing extra to check and make sure security was covered, ever suspicious of the outside hired help that weren’t technically part of the household staff.

 

Not to mention she had to pay the staff extra to keep them from killing off the three dramatic as all hell ‘ _artistes_ ’ she had under her patronage that squabbled like children over everything.

 

They were messy, brilliant and forward-thinking but nuts and seemed to hate each other for... some reason she couldn’t understand.

 

Her blue eyes caught on the other trainers going over training schedules for the troops and waving her over.

 

Either way, now was the time for some training.

  

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

Solas nodded politely at the requisition officer as she handed him a small bag and a book along with supplies the group all attained, confused.

 

He felt the crinkle of parchment in the bag.

 

At least that would explain itself.

 

With a nod, he retired to his tent and relaxed, changing into a set of clean night clothes and grimacing openly in the safety of the tent at his lacklustre clothing. He had to keep up the look, had to keep up the smell. It certainly wasn’t his favourite part of this, but considering his plans had messed up, this was what he needed to do. He did approve of this building of an Inquisition, having a safe place he could retreat, even if he was still judged and watched warily.

 

It was better than complete loneliness.

 

And there was a wonderfully playful grin to get back to.

 

He settled with a book at his side and then opened the little bag, taking out the note first.

 

\---

_It may not come with a hot bath but hopefully this relaxes you,_

_Ivy._

_PS: My favourite area in Thedas is the Western Approach, what’s yours?_

\---

 

He could smell the herbs instantly, and also took out the jar of honey with a little smile on his face. All the camps had their own supply of ciders and meads as fresh clean water was hard to get a hold of in these more distant camps. He went to grab a flask of cider quickly, uncaring of the stares to his less dressed than usual state when in the sleeveless vest under his tunic baring what he knew was rather broad shoulders for an elf, and came back, setting up the warm drink. He heated it up with his fire magic and the warm smell was instantly comforting.

 

He flipped open the book.

 

It was, of course, on dragons.

 

He sipped and smiled to himself at the pleasing taste, closing his eyes.

 

_A cheeky grin, darkened eyes, the heat of a bath being outdone by the burn of lust flaring low in his-_

 

“Hey Chuckles, we’re playing a game of Wicked Grace if you want to join us?” Varric called from outside.

 

Unwarranted anger flushed through him at the interruption, wondering if this could be considered yet another disturbance to his private time with hi- _a_ female, even if only in mind. Then he pushed it aside. He’d consider this a good thing in fact. It would be a way to stop from wanting a more intimate and permanent connection with the human woman like his body and magic urged him to do. “I will. A moment, please.”

 

“We’re starting a round up now, join in the next when you’re ready.” Steps, and the dwarf was gone.

 

_What’s yours?_

 

He closed his eyes, simply wishing to be there, or for her to be here, playfully grinning at him, eyes earnest and wondering. Or would she be tugging him out impatiently, eager to play some games? She seemed the type.

 

She was cute and making him want to smile foolishly even in his head and he looked up in exasperation at himself. Reluctantly, he placed the wooden stein he carried down and put his coat on, giving one last look to the book before taking the stein, hesitating, then scooped up the book and left. He joined the group quietly, taking in the game and the players. Wicked Grace was some sort of card game, as he’d gathered, and the Herald, Varric and Cassandra were also playing with some scouts, including Harding and the requisition officer. Each had their own playing style and his quick mind took in who to bet against in the next few rounds and who to lead on.

 

After he learnt how to play the game first.

 

Varric dealt him in and when he informed him, the dwarf remarked, “What, you’ve never played? Do elves just not have cards out in the forests? Fiddles over here didn’t know either.”

 

Lana shrugged at him when he peered at her curiously, trying to look like it didn’t faze her, twiddling a bit of grass in her fingers.

 

The storyteller chuckled at the lass. “It’s alright; no need to put on airs now Chuckles is around.”

 

She flushed as the next hand was dealt.

 

Solas politely ignored this and sighed out silently. That was something that had seemed to have developed which he hadn’t a clue as to why it had continued. He had demurred on all flirtation, answering any question respectfully and looking away when she attempted to look him over obviously. She was simply too young. And too late. He had hoped it would quickly go away. Perhaps it would not. It was making what could be intriguing conversations awkward. Still, he put in a couple silver as Varric explained hands and rules and he took it in swiftly. Stories were told over cards being dealt, and Solas smiled as he won a big hand, chuckling at the groans as they lost to beginner luck, unknowing he was simply reading their tells and giving off his own confusing ones after a good couple dozen hands.

 

Varric nudged him and flickered his eyes to the opposite side of them.

 

Solas looked around, controlling his features.

 

Ah.

 

Maybe he should not have done so.

 

Lana was staring at him, starry-eyed at his skill.

 

He nodded once politely and turned away when the next hand started, ignoring Varric snickering to himself by sipping at the warm spiced cider. It was missing the brandy, which did leave something out of it that he enjoyed, but it kept him at peace, and warm, and satisfied.

 

“Smells good.”

 

“It also tastes good as well.” He leaned back against the boulder, keeping the brew close.

 

“I was going to ask to try some, but I can see I’d get a no.”

 

A little smirk littered his lips as he replied, “How astute of you. Two golds,” and drank more.

 

Varric held his hands up in defeat.

 

No trying to drink some of Solas’ drinks.

 

It had, after all, been the highest the elf had bet all night.

 

Now for the real question… who had given it to him?

 

He eyed the dragon book.

 

Varric had a bit of an idea who.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_There was a most magnificent area I was lucky to witness, with the most glistening waterfalls into warm natural hotsprings. There were delicate flowers surrounding it I’d never seen, with the scent daintily on the breeze that the waterfall’s falling water made. Two grand statues of hart surrounded it, massive and calling out, as it to show their protection over the area._

_They remind me of your hart, in reflection of this._

 

 

\---

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

\---

_You like waterfalls? How curious! In all your travels, you must have found some gorgeous ones?_

_Perhaps one day you shall show me your favourite one? Oh hey, I know, let’s have an adventure sometime!_

_Also, Lealos is happy to know your high regard of him. Must you make him strut?_

 

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Good book?” Varric asked on another night a week or so from the large game of Wicked Grace.

 

Solas nodded, strongly saying, “Yes. It is both anecdotal and factual and has good use of verbiage without arrogantly throwing in words only the most intellectuals would understand, making it open to those of all levels. More books should be like this. I have been greatly entertained so far.”

 

“Where did you pick it up?” He asked, already knowing.

 

“It is from Ivy.”

 

The dwarf chuckled out, “Ah, so dragons.”

 

“We expect no less, yes?” He mused in agreement with the man who chuckled again and nodded. “She seemed quite offended that I did not have a firm favourite.”

 

“She does like them a lot. Mind if I borrow it after you’re done?”

 

The elf nodded once. “Not at all. You must, of course, also have a favourite.”

 

“Be damned if I don’t, right?” He said wryly. “Or a generally long lecture?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

But Varric had seen how he’d gripped the book slightly, ears downwardly twitching in a way he’d known Fenris to do when not wanting to do something – which was more often than not so he was quite alert on these elf things - and decided he wouldn’t ask before they next joined her.

 

He could read signs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_An adventure? Yes, I could do with good company, and even better drinks along the way._

 

_Oh, did I mean to suggest the drinks would be better than your company?_

 

 _I_ do _apologize._

\---

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ivy felt a pulse of a headache grow in her temple, even after such a teasing note she kept in a private book of hers.

 

Kid was causing trouble due to her lineage. Apparently the family was calling it a kidnapping even though legally she was of age to be able to work both in Orlais and Hinterlands. So there was pain in the arse parents arriving; she personally thought it just an excuse to get gossip. She had hands in different business these lasts couple years, buying some stocks, or backing some upcoming shining stars in different countries, quite like how she had her artistes, or putting money into a growing little network she’d affectionately named St Clements whose sole purpose was to spy on others and make things fall her way more often than not. These always needed constant attention and handling so she was forever in contact with someone.

 

Then the defences of this place sucked. She’d manage to push through getting extra sacks behind the fence followed by another fence and gotten another trebuchet in the works - but she thought they needed another place. When questioned where, she had nothing to stay. She didn’t know much of southern Thedas outside nesting grounds in Emprise Du Lion and Exalted Plains. Then there were the trainers of the troops, and each wanted their type of self-defence to be the one learnt. It was frustrating, because Cullen stayed out of it and let them go for it and they’d instantly dismissed her due to being female.

 

Fools.

 

She’d been training extra hard since her childhood years to get over that physical impediment.

 

No dragon hunter was without stamina or strength.

 

That meant instant death.

 

So she’d continued training her little group of scouts, inclusive of the Lieutenant who never gave her name away. She made sure they could fight and defend. Her job was meant to train these scouts to be leaders, to take on the baddest of the bad out there fearlessly and succeed. They were meant to take on dragons. Each of them had a round insignia that she got some of the blacksmiths to make, the top half of a roaring Kaltenzahn dragon chained by poison ivy in onyx and was pinned so it held their cloaks to their clothes.

 

It had taken attention and so this trainer, Jameson, was unhappy.

 

All of them were in the tent with Commander Cullen out and staying out of the way of this, having already agreed with what she was doing and let them sort their own interpersonal work relationships out.

 

“All the troops should be equal.”

 

“Impossible. How else do we have leaders and sub-commanders and the like?” Ivy replied smoothly. “I train the group as Commander Cullen wishes them to be trained, but I train my own specialist group as our Left Hand wishes, to take on beasts others would be afraid to.”

 

“And what,” Delaware added on from next to her and standing at the front of the tent from where he was training the troops but keeping an ear out. “Would that be, dear huntress?”

 

“Dragons, their offspring, and others of that size. Giants, great bears, larger sized and greater demons and so on and so forth.” Ivy waved a hand as she went through correspondence. Figaro was getting annoying again, according to Mama cook back at home in Val Royeaux, being pernickety about his already high quality food. She’d have to bring his arrogance to heel if he wished to continue be under her patronage. His monthly stipend apparently runs out quicker than ever and Mama had taken to counting the silverware and getting others to make sure all dragon collection pieces were there still, just in case.

 

Ugh.

 

Figaro was her most troublesome, but certainly most excellent, of artistes under her wing and did engineering and forever griping about Bianca Davri but also being in awe of her. Phillipe her most outlandish and attention grabbingly beautiful and was an excellent stage craft and scriptwriter, held back only because of his being highly mercurial in mood. Anya, her quietest but most specific of all of them, a qunari woman of fortitude and grace and adroit in her writing.

 

Jameson’s brown eyes flickered in annoyance as he said in loud exasperation, “Why in Thedas would- _demons_ I can understand but, giants? _Dragons?_ You let your job get away with you, hunter!”

 

“You don’t believe we will _stay_ here in the Hinterlands, do you? You think too small, Jameson. Expected, I suppose.” Ivy stood up, seeing Delaware grin to himself at the slight when he looked over his shoulder for a second and the so far silent Gregory smirk lightly. “The Inquisition won’t stop here, because rifts will appear everywhere. Then we will need troops for all sorts of weathers and enemies. Yes, that includes dragonkind. I know the Exalted Plains has multitudes of giants for instance, and an active Gamordan high dragon and not to mention countless wyverns. You three will likely command the mass of our legion. I will take care to create leaders of all the platoons we will have.”

 

Jameson went red. “The others won’t accept them-”

 

“Actually,” Delaware said, looking over, “They already do. In fact, I’ve had several of my more talented men ask what it will take to get into the specialist group, wanting to prove their worth.”

 

“What?! This is ludicrous!”

 

Gregory said slowly, patiently, “As have I. Exactly as Ivy had planned.”

 

“I say nothing.” Ivy grinned to herself, but she knew people. She had the advantage of living in a more manipulative world of Orlais and its politics. You give people some better equipment, an aim, and others would be envious, would want to get into this special group, would make it a personal aim of theirs to do so. Meaning more focused troops, and more troops being trained up for dragons, some of which she hoped to snatch for Orlais when this Breach business was finished. Some little silvers spent and she gained control and envy. “However, if you do have troops that think they can take on dragons and win, please send them my way. We have so few dragon hunters I couldn’t possibly pass up such eager recruits. But I have only fifteen spots right now.”

 

Delaware frowned up at her, turning in full armour. “Fifteen… of course. We are training for groups of thirty but half that with the two hundred and twenty odd troops we currently have, a sub for each leader. But as you say, we will grow.”

 

“Which is why I will be looking out for those special few wanting to come into my group. You do make excellent right hand men, Dela, and know who would make good ones. Gregory also knows how to make excellent frontliners. Jameson is rather sneaky and gets those ones.”

 

“You…” He shook his head, ginger hair sparkling nicely in the cool morning. “I profess to suddenly being quite enamoured with you.”

 

“You’ll make me blush, Dela.”

 

“So prettily, too.”

 

"N'aww."

 

Jameson frowned. “What?”

 

Gregory spoke up, arms crossed, “Jameson. Ivy is Orlesian. She has been training us all.”

 

The Free Marcher looked his way, befuddled.

 

“Armies need the hardhitters that I best train in, the ones that backstab like you train in, and the ones that lead as Ivy best trains in as well as all the conventional troops that Delaware is good at handling and training. We are each good at different things. Ivy noted this and took control without our knowing until now.”

 

“I will not simply accept this!”

 

“Kid!” Ivy suddenly barked and drew her over instantly, with the Kid bowing. “Enough of that - up, up. Jameson, grab your best. We shall have our best two fight.”

 

Jameson glowered before nodding as he took in the kid, calling someone over.

 

Bulky and huge of course.

 

Kid turned wide green eyes begging her to let her go. “M-Milady Ivy, I-”

 

“You want to be part of the Inquisitions Elite Hunters troops or not?”

 

“I want to stay! I-I just-”

 

“Look at him,” Ivy commanded quietly. “See how he moves, what side he favours, his speed. Then take in his weaknesses, take in the area around you, the space you have access to. So many things can be in your favour if you only-” She pushed her forward. “-Take that _first step_. Be smart over the brute. Your stay in my troops hangs on this.”

 

“A bit harsh,” Delaware murmured to her as he stopped training his recruits for a moment and came next to her.

 

“Can’t be kind all the time.”

 

Kid flinched at the starting shout and freaked out at the sharp sound of a whistle from Gregory, but Ivy barked out, “First position!”

 

The noble daughter fell into it in reaction and followed the natural way of the form, stepping outside of the range of attack at the last moment, pleasing Ivy. More so when she slammed the hilt of the sword into the large males side, right in a soft spot just in between the armour of his chest and his arm, getting the pit. He yowled in pain and swiped out with his sword, but Kid held up her shield, twirling around and slamming the hilt once again into him, but this time his neck, making him choke and stumble back.

 

Ivy cursed inwardly when Kid backed up instead of pressed the attack as she’d been taught. If she’d _think_ then she’d realise that the backing up was due to being overwhelmed by numbers and to always keep guard up. In this instance, the opposite was best but she would learn now, instead of on the field. The next mistake was loosening her grip on the shield in fear as the large male charged her and it only served as an extra hit as the shield Kid wielded slammed into her causing extra damage and sending her flying.

 

Kid winced but got up and dodged the slam down of the shield from her opponent by rolling out of the way and getting up swiftly, slamming her hilt into the back of his head, letting gravity and the hard ground knock him out.

 

There was quiet for a moment as the big guy didn’t get up, and the fifteen-year-old girl breathed hard over him, shaking from adrenaline.

 

A roar of approval was the answer.

 

“I… I did it?”

 

Ivy grinned and nodded proudly when Kid looked at her hopefully, making her beam back, tears welling up.

 

Kid jumped Ivy and hugged her tight. “Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

 

The Scot laughed. “You are most welcome, my little love.”

 

“What, uhm, what did I do wrong?”

 

Ivy felt even more pride than when she’d won. “You didn’t use the scene to the best you could. See that patch of grass?” She pointed and Kid nodded. “You could’ve made him slip as dew still is on it. Know the times of the day in advance. You see those rocks? You’re deft enough to not trip over them yourself, but he was a bit too bulky and untrained not to stumble himself. You dropped your shield, which would not do against dragon flame or lightning or ice breath, and yet also missed the opportunity to guide him to slip over it. Next-”

 

Delaware clapped her on the back. “Let her have her win!”

 

Ivy paused and sighed. “Yes. My apologies. You did very well. I am merely more proud that you wished to know what could have been better. Anyone can win, not many can push aside arrogance and learn after. That is the mark of the better artist. Either way, let me buy you drinks tonight. You deserve me looking after your drunk arse at the very least. _Hunters!_ ” She called out, knowing her troops were listening. “To me! We go to the tavern to celebrate a grand win of one of our own! First round on me!”

 

A cheer, and others looking on enviously, the group of then went, patting Kid on the back.

 

Ivy looked at Delaware. “One on me for you, for reminding me.” She nodded at Kid being pushed first into the tavern.

 

“Why would I turn you down, Leader?” He winked, holding out an elbow.

 

“Why anyone would turn down a free drink, I don’t know.”

 

Delaware raised a brow and merely nodded as she took it, looking back at a bemused Jameson and a smirking Gregory.

 

“Why indeed?”

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After years of Orlais, I like to think anyone will be adept at manipulating with far better success than others. Anyone with a better title suggestion, please throw it at me...
> 
> 13/9


	6. Don't Stop Writing That Letter

 

 

**Chapter Six**

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

\---

_You would think that people would be grateful for masterful training!_

_Oh, am I working them too hard?_

_Ahaha! They love it really!_

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_It will save their lives one day, I am sure._

_We came across multiple astrariums over the Hinterlands._

_I wonder if puzzles like this intrigue you?_

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was another two weeks of harsh training the troops and being loved/hated for it before the Herald came back with her troops a full four and a half weeks later from when she’d left.

 

Ivy wasn’t there, on her daily ride with Lealos, who always appreciated her company and nuzzled her in welcome, taking at least two hours of her time as they played and chased hunts. They were the ones to bring back fennic foxes and goats and occasionally the bears from around the surrounding areas and feed some of the troops. Lealos had a _damn_ mean stomp, even with the sharp horns of his antlers spearing his enemies being the meanest thing on him. She loved training and teaching, but this time riding through the chilly forests with her beloved hart was quiet and patient and calming.

 

She adored it.

 

The martial artist did not always need excitement and thrills and high octane action. In fact, when she wasn’t having her kicks in whatever way she got them, whether it be in the field, in the bedroom or in the pub, she highly prized calm nothingness and solitude or quiet companions that understood a need for serenity and saying nothing. So when she rode in to bubbling excitement, it made her wince. She shipped off the ten odd foxes she’d hunted to the kitchen staff after taking care of Lealos and letting him settle into the stable after she brushed him down and gave him lots of love he fell asleep to and went to her little cabin, closing it behind her. There was an unusual heat and smell of maleness that made her pause at its’ familiarity before she smiled to herself.

 

She had company.

 

“Solas?” She asked without really needing to.

 

“Ivy. Join me. Please.”

 

Her heart beat fast, lust pulsing in her suddenly and making her core throb. How was it she was so completely attracted to this male? She’d never had anything like it in the four decades she’d been alive. Her hand had gripped into a fist absently and she stretched that hand out. “I can do,” She murmured with a somewhat breathless tone, taking off her cloak and coat swiftly, placing them on the coat stand next to the door by the side of his and put her boots next to his. She paused as she stared at it in bewilderment.

 

It was so… homely.

 

She really liked it.

 

She’d missed this. A lot. Missed _male_ company that was like this. That homeliness, wishing to see her back, comfortable with their naked self around her and wanting her near and listening to her because they wanted to know about her day and wanted to tell her of theirs. Tears suddenly hit her eyes and she put a hand over her mouth, feeling her whole self shake. She’d… missed him. She was not used to that feeling at all. Then she gulped and set her shoulders back, even as she felt wobbly on the inside. It was still new, even as it felt relaxed between them. She would not let him see this silliness. They’d known each other for all of two odd months. One of which they’d only been swapping messages, for heaven’s sake!

 

 _Enough for a major crush to form, right?_ A little voice in the back of her head stated.

 

“Ivy?”

 

She’d taken too long. “Ah, yes.”

 

A slosh of water before he stilled. “Are you well?”

 

Shit, her voice must have been weird.

 

“Fine just… fine.” Ivy looked at herself, feeling her hair. Messy with dirt and hart hair over her, wind-swept from the ride, feeling awkward and unsure. She cringed at herself. “Ah-ha… I’m a bit of a mess. And I smell.”

 

“It matters not. You can always join me and wash up.”

 

“Oh, don’t.” She replied knowingly, laughing. “I’d probably end up sucking your cock.”

 

Then sheer embarrassment took her before she touched the partition he was behind.

 

_SHE SAID THAT OUT LOUD?!_

 

“It is good to hear you say that, as I would find myself drinking down your nectar by the gallon if I could.”

 

She sucked in a quiet breath before slowly pushing the partition to the side and taking him in. It made her pulse powerfully in lust. He was delicious. Magnificent to behold.

 

And a bit too big for the tub that was perfectly her size.

 

It made her smile playfully at him, eyes crinkling. "Don't you look so cute in there?"

 

He cocked his head to the side in reply as he felt a warmth in him at the domesticity of this, of having been waiting for her return to their little cabin, magic swirling happily in reply to his emotions and taking her in. She must have just taken Lealos out for a ride and cared for him, judging by the smell of hart and earth and by the golden-brown-like fur and hay on her. It reminded him of his youthful days when he was cocky and felt like he could take on the world, riding around with his hunting group for years on end. Those were good times. Foolish, innocent, energetic, and brash and cocky in the way young men were. That was then, when he chased after women like he did his hunts.

 

Now was different. Very different.

 

What was good then wasn’t good for him now.

 

He knew _this_ would be sublime, better than the foolish youthful things he did.

 

“Also, that just sounds like a challenge you could never pull off.”

 

His lips lilted up on one side. “I would only seek to impress by trying.”

 

Ivy grinned at him, putting a hand to her mouth as she laughed, eyes bright. “How very kind of you to think of me! But uh, perhaps not with me in this state, yes?” She tugged out a bit of hay from her hair ruefully. “Hm?” He held a hand to her, beseeching. She couldn’t resist, stepping forward and taking it, only to get pulled down gently into a deep kiss. She groaned and slowly went to her knees, kissing deeper and longer, holding his face to hers. His tasted good, like himself and ice magic and her cider. It sent a shiver down her back that he felt, making him pull her close protectively.

 

He parted lips from hers, staying close as he plucked out another straw of hay from her hair. “Especially in this state, Ivy.”

 

She hummed to herself and watched as he let it fall to the side of her, shaking her head with a grin and remarked, “Oh you are _charming_ and that is _dangerous._ ”

 

He laughed. “I could say the same for you, - Ivy.” He corrected himself before he could make a mistake of giving her some sort of affectionate petname.

 

“I… have missed you, Solas. I do not know what this is, but I have thought on you more than I feel I should for such short time of knowing you,” She admitted, not looking away from him.

 

Already she was cringing on the inside for saying it.

 

She shouldn’t have said it!

 

Stupid, stupid, stu-

 

“As have I.” He brushed away hair from her face as she blinked at him, surprised, before looking relieved and then fondly smiling at him. Pretty. She looked so glad he was back, greatly pleasing him and feeling himself wrapping around her finger. “You call _me_ dangerous,” He huffed playfully, seeing she was rubbing off on him. Such partners came along at eerily good times for what they offered. It made him content to think he’d have someone likelier on his side than not, and he sunk down into the water a little, never wavering in his gaze of her face. She was tired, not getting enough sleep by the darkening under her eyes, and having heard the slight hoarseness of her voice. “Things have happened to you.”

 

“Of course, this Inquisition is a big thing happening. Ah but I have merely been training troops. You’ve been into Hinterlands! And doing a lot of good from what I hear. Tell me more from your point of view? I want to know your opinions.”

 

Solas smiled at that. “I shall.”

 

He told her all about it, of the Crossroads, the fighting between the two rivals of Templars and Mages, of how Varric was always able to pull out a story or two from him and more from so many others. He told her of the wounded, of the caches apostates had left behind that helped warm the refugees, how they fed the people of the Hinterlands with masses of goats, how they’d helped people over the lands in myriad little ways. Even when he had gotten out the tub he’d revelled her with tales and she kept her eyes to his face politely, wishing to know more, handing him a towel.

 

In turn, Ivy had told him of her tales with training, taking her clothing off as he put his on, only for him to help her when she’d taken her coat and tunic off by putting them aside for her. She tugged at her bindings but he’d taken care of that, pushing her hands away and agilely undoing it, teasing her with flicks of his fingers. He went to stand behind her and undid the buttons to her breeches, kissing the junction between neck and shoulder lingeringly, and smiling warmly at her reactive shiver. He was about to slide them down, fingers dragging over hipbones slowly, only for-

 

“Lady Ivy!”

 

She sighed heavily, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “One day.”

 

Solas chuckled, grasping her around her hips and tugging her close to his own. He lifted a hand, gently turned her head and kissed her, tempted to go further when her hand came into play, rubbing his hardened cock, but she pulled away at the next banging on the door. With a huff she came back and stormed to the door, pulling on her coat and tugging it closed. “Ivy?”

 

She turned before she reached the door, arm extended to it and finger on the key still in the lock.

 

He looked her over, seeing her chest breathe heavily, the tops of her bosom enticingly _there_ and, not wanting others to see this, he frowned, but perhaps with this they would learn to stay away after starting rumours so they could finally enjoy each other. “I am glad you are back.”

 

“I couldn’t ask for a better hello, Solas.” Then she opened the door. “What?”

 

“Lady-” There was a pause. “I-Ivy. Dispatch f-for you.”

 

Ivy took the bundle of letters. “Thanks. Bye.” She turned and closed the door with a foot, locking it behind her and then going through the letters. The top note from Leliana informed her they leave for Val Royeaux in four days and would stay there approximately two weeks to gather support for the Inquisition. It would have been one, but one of the clerics couldn’t meet until a week later, so Leliana informed her she’d have time for all of the letters below this note, making her snort to herself in amusement. ‘ _Which letter hadn’t she looked through?_ ’ Ivy wondered, plucking the note out. The next letter was from her editor for her essays and the following were what seems to be replies and invitations to salons and gatherings and dinners from what she could tell from prior experiences, probably all questioning about the Inquisition as little additional notes made to look like side thoughts.

 

Solas was handed the note and he read it before looking at the bundle of letters. “We are off to Val Royeaux in four days? You come from there, yes?”

 

She nodded, flicking through the next bunch of letters. “Naturally we’ll stay in my home, save some expense and I can show you my dragon collection. Unfortunately, I have to answer all of these and send them out now. I would much rather take my time enjoying you but…”

 

He settled on the bed, picking up a book and opening it to the bookmarked page. “I can wait, if impatiently,” He remarked with a slight playfulness. “I look forward to seeing your collection.”

 

She grinned. “I look forward to showing off.”

 

“How very Orlesian of you.”

 

“Isn’t it just?” She laughed, sitting down at her desk and pulling on her writing gloves. The warmth of the fireplace next to the desk was good enough to keep the chill away, even with her front bared. She teared open the first letter, scrunching her nose up at the lavender scent and swiftly taking in the invitation time and then grabbing a fresh piece of parchment. “Gods, I hate lavender. Why is it the rage lately?" She muttered to herself. "Guess I’ll just bathe after.”

 

“I can warm it for you with magic when you are ready?”

 

“Really?” She blinked at the offer and turned to him, arm leaning on the back of her chair. “That’d be lovely, thank you.”

 

Solas raised a brow at her. “You sound surprised.”

 

“At your sincerity, yes. As you say, I’m Orlesian. That comes with wondering immediately _why_ you would do such a thing and for who are you trying to show off to and who would hear and… well, you get the idea.”

 

Courtly intrigue at its finest, he knew. So she had some talent in that? He could try to benefit from that somehow, help her along in return. “Merely trying to get you out of your breeches sooner,” He quipped, making her snicker and followed on in the same tone with, “Though perhaps I should book an appointment?”

 

Ivy lifted the letters and waggled them. “You’d have to beat all the others wanting my time. And this is the first lot to arrive.” She watched him as he chuckled, thinking about him naked and how he was nicely built under those shoddy bits of clothing. She’d have to bring him to a tailor she knew under the guise of getting the group she would travel with to Val Royeaux some new clothing. To see him in a couple pieces of Orlesian fashion could be something to admire; it would have to be specific and go with his ears, elegant and sleek… and then as he took them off slowly, pianist hands teasing her. She closed her eyes and stiffly turned to the desk, blindly grabbing her quill.

 

There was a brief moment of quiet before, “Now what were you thinking about?” was whispered in her ear and hands trailed lightly over shoulders.

 

Ivy swallowed the sudden build-up of lust-made saliva. “Rather naughty thoughts about you in Orlesian tailoring in _poses_.” She gave no objection when he ever so slowly traced fingertips down her collarbone and over her breasts, purposefully dodging her hardened nipples. “Honestly, my mind’s a gutter when I see you.” Her thighs clenched together when he twirled the fingertips around the nubs, closer. “Mm. Of course, I’ve seen you naked in a bathtub as much as I have out of it, so perhaps not surprising when you showcase to me all the time,” She babbled when he gently ran his fingers over the hardened peaks, barely touching. “Hah hah hah…” She breathed out as pleasant tingles flowed through her body and down to her groin.

 

“Perhaps you should write your response,” He murmured lowly, enjoying how reactive she was to his touch.

 

She looked up at him, tonguing a canine and shaking her head even as her grin widened. “You are a tease, messere Solas.” She faced forward again, dipping her quill in ink and also splashing it when he suddenly squeezed her nipples tightly with fingers and thumbs and rolled them, massaging her breasts with the rest of his hands. “ _Fuck._ ” She groaned, back arching to him. He leaned closer, lips smirking as he put his mouth to her shoulder, liking it when she leaned her head on his. “I very suddenly have no regrets of thinking dirty, naughty thoughts of you. Ngh.” She grunted when he tugged at then rolled her nipples again, humming her delight.

 

His chest lightly pressed against her back as he kissed up her neck and she leaned her head to the right to give him more room. “I would hear more of these thoughts, but you have letters to attend to.” He stopped what he was doing.

 

A little whimper and she swiftly reread the letter and began penning her response, understanding the game he was playing in an instant.

 

She’d thought he be a sensitive lover, what with the care of how he dealt with things and people, but no.

 

He seemed to prefer to take control and she was all too willing to let him have his fun and get the pleasure of it. His lips kissed her skin hard, leaving reddened marks in his wake of exploring her neck and making her squirm for more. Then he was biting into her without damaging the skin and making her give a little delicious whimper that had him humming, pleased and was then dragging his teeth along, happy to see what he had wrought was staying. His fingers worked hard, rolling the nipples, tugging at them, squeezing her breasts enough that she knew she’d feel the phantom touch later on and making her sucking in a breath and making little moans leave her throat.

 

She was overwhelmed.

 

One breast lay forgotten as he then firmly trailed his hand down purposefully so she’d know exactly where he was going and undid her breeches, tugging them down swiftly and somewhat roughly and she didn’t say stop as her writing stuttered and fully halted. A light growling sound left his lips at her heavy scent and made her shudder, something he approved of if the hard kiss of approval her neck got was anything to go by.

 

Two fingers quickly danced around her lower lips before spreading them and rubbing firm circles as he bit again at her shoulder.

 

He was intense.

 

“I do not hear the quill.”

 

Ivy wrote her agreement to the dinner and show with a fellow professor and his wife- _His fingers began moving again, dipping through her wetness and back up to her clit to prep her_ -stating that yes she’d bring a friend or two that would appreciate the invite to such a marvellous show it was said to be - _he slid them in with intent on quickness and began to thrust hard as the base of his palm rubbed her clit_. She mewled and clenched her hand, pushing into his hand. Her quill dipped into the pot shakily, and a pump of his fingers prompted her to take it out, tapping against the rim to get rid of excess and she gasped as he mimicked her actions inside her.

 

“Hmm…”

 

Her hand staunchly got back to writing, if a little wobbly. Should she bring that wine- _he lifted her up from the chair with his forearm slipping under her arse, biting her neck and tilting her forward and let gravity do some of the job, fucking her roughly and positioning it so she bounced into his hand and making her moan loudly –_ that he loved or should she try to guess if he’d - _his arm pushed her into his fingers and she felt it build up so rapidly happen with her clenching down and her clit beginning to hide away a little in tense coiling up-_

 

“Give me your orgasm,” He growled in her ear as he rubbed and pounded his fingers into her, sitting her on his lap and using his thighs to shove her onto his fingers, hard cock rutting up against her for his own pleasure. He used his now free hand to pull her head so they were forehead to forehead and she faced him and he could avidly watch the pleasure. He was rewarded by the sight of her coming apart, tensing and relaxing and quivering as it flooded her, muscles twitching most powerfully in her thighs and squashing his wrist. Not that he minded, the scent of her orgasm captivating him as sure as the sight of her like this did, mouth opened, tongue slightly out and saliva building and utterly quaking against him. He slowed his fingers down but didn’t stop, slowing kissing up her neck and listening to her breathing and the surprisingly loud thundering of her heart.

 

It was a minute later when she was relaxed in his arms and he stilled and gently removed his fingers, making her whimper and reactively twitched her thighs closed, wanting him to stay in. He adored that. She grinned at his tongue licking up her juices from his hand with a hungered groan and she murmured, “That, was powerful and absolutely _gratifying_.” She let her head fall back against his shoulder for a quiet moment and he watched her pleased grin warmly as she recovered, leaning into him and breathing him in. She was calm for a minute, possibly two, with him enjoying her scent and her weight with utter content in him but then she opened her eyes and grinned at him.

 

She felt _good._

 

She felt ready for more.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Your turn!” She said cheerfully. “What is it, again? Nu’da’din’sal’mah? Being ready for you once more and eager for more?”

 

Solas laughed at her knowing that and kept her up close to him, enjoying her arms slinking around his neck in a post-orgasmic cuddle and wondering that she knew the phrase while also playfully waggling her brows at him when not many Dalish he’d met with did know it. He was joyed in this excellent moment. “Yes. How keen of you.” He held her still on top of him even if very appreciative of her enthusiasm and wiggling. “No. You have letters to take care of, Ivy.”

 

“Our beds are _right there_ ,” She offered with a smile, but he simply chuckled and kissed her softly before parting. He ducked his head, nudging hers back forward again with his nose to her jaw so she faced forward. “Nnngh. Alright, alright. Want me to get up, or will you just pick me up and place me wherever again?”

 

His mouth rubbed against her neck and he tightened his arms. “I heard no objections.”

 

“I highly doubt you _will_ ,” She replied in sighing honesty and felt his smirk on her skin and so moved forward to her letters. “ _You_ are acting like _Lealos_ when we first met. Bah.”

 

That caused him to laugh. “He has been lucky to have you ride him.”

 

“Could say the same about you with him!” She laughed with him and teasingly threw over her shoulder, “But at least he has gotten the pleasure of being between my legs and having me ride him,” and yipped when he gently nipped her suddenly. “He nips, knowing he has been out-worded, ahaha!”

 

Solas smirked, completely enjoying everything about this moment and clutching her closer. “You make me want to kiss you into silence, woman.”

 

“You’ll have to deal with being my chair instead.”

 

He raised his brows. “I will have you lounging upon me for the foreseeable future? There are worse fates,” The elf murmured, keeping an arm wrapped low around her waist, and putting cheek to fist as his elbow rest upon the arm of the chair, lazily watching what she was doing as she began her letters again. His eyes lidded, fingers caressing her available skin. Soft, firm and warm. A lot warmer and more giving in flesh than an elf. It surprised him how much he liked that, and now he wanted to sleep on her to enjoy the soft heat of her. Would she be hotter inside than an elf? The thought would linger there, he knew.

 

“Make yourself useful, lovely chair,” Ivy handed him a few letters. “Have a read through and summarize for me?”

 

“Such impertinence,” He remarked with teasing and opened a letter, comfortable and enjoying the heat she gave off as well as the delectable scent of her womanhood. Fresh from _coming_ because of him. Delicious.

 

She smiled as he tugged off her boots and breeches for her comfort and she replied to him, “You do say the most darling of things, chair.”

 

“I aim to please.”

 

“Certainly pleased me, lovely.”

 

He kissed her shoulder. “Good.”

 

There was some silence as they read and penned, but there was nothing awkward about it, relaxed.

 

“You are often invited to so many things?”

 

Ivy nodded absently at the question as she scribbled away, “I seem adventurous, have many stories, work in the university with the finest minds in Thedas and have very good links, and am single and young enough they’d be happy to marry their sons to me. I use it all to my advantage. Do not ask me my age, please? Also, I actually do go to their parties without judging who should and should not be there. Basically, I make friends with everyone and charm the smalls off them. Er, not literally, mind you. I definitely like watching the intrigue and drama happen because it can be absolutely hilarious to find how petty a thing someone gets offended over, and I can play The Game, but… Admittedly? I am ill-suited for it as a whole.”

 

Solas understood her greatly, “You prefer the hunt, the freedom of the world and freedom for the people in it.”

 

“As do you,” She replied with a few contemplative nods. Though she had noticed his dislike of most people yet spotted him healing or giving counsel to some elves before he’d left for Hinterlands. A confusing man. Then she paused. “Well, as you do the people of both worlds, shall I say?”

 

“That I do. Shall I tell you of a fortress I found in the Fade?”

 

“Found in the…?” She stopped and turned to him with a bemused smile, titillated. “You’ll have to explain that one. I only slightly understand what you do as a whole?”

 

The question made him smile slightly, appreciative of her honest inquisitiveness. “What do you know of the Fade and mages?”

 

“Only how to use their abilities in battle to protect and attack to keep all safe as can be in a fight and that mages get their magic from the Fade.”

 

Unfortunately true.

 

He wondered if she’d ever be capable of being a mage. There was one or two ways of forcing it, he’d found, sending his magic over her. Magic once was in all the People, making them have their immortality and feel full and real and alive, which was why he wanted his world back.

 

_Everyone here just felt emp-_

 

Solas looked at her intently as he nodded, realising something in her, absently rubbing her stomach with a thumb. “This is true. I am able to Dream, which means I find myself in the Fade. Not physically, however.”

 

“Tell me more?”

 

_Everyone felt…_

 

“As you wish.” He replied absently, mind having blanked in stunned shock.

 

_Apparently not everyone felt like tranquil._

 

“Great!”

 

The tiniest bit of magic resided _in_ her, instead of a gaping hole that was like a parasite on the Fade like the mages had in a naturally occurring magical attempt from the world to undo what he had wrought.

 

She could feel him, not as greatly, but it was _something_ and that something was beyond important to him.

 

Solas felt his hope spike as he spoke of the Fade, possessively shifting her closer, highly protective of the only other one of _his_ People that he’d found, unmarked and unbound.

 

Despite her lack of pointed ears.

 

He regained his thoughts. “The Fortress is a few days’ trek from here to north. It is placed in a milder area, and it is called Skyhold.”

 

Ivy listened in fascination.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't do that interrupt trick to you for a third time without some good times! Thanks for reading, would love to know what you think so far x


	7. They Like The Colour

 

 

**Chapter Seven**

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_I’d love to give a sky puzzle a go!_

_Are there many around?_

_Also have you read many of Genetivi’s works? What do you think of them?_

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lealos was overjoyed to be taken out on a proper journey again and was jittering with energy even after several hours ride. She grinned at him and his eagerness to go quicker. “Slow down, you impatient thing. We have to wait for the lesser mounts, Lealos.” He let out a sound akin to a sigh and looked behind him, snorting at the horses. “I know buddy, they are but simple beings. Nothing like _my_ brave boy.” She leant forward from his back and scratched at his neck proudly, making him preen and nuzzle at her hand. “N’awwww I love you too.”

 

“Doesn’t it make your teeth ache at how sweet that is?” Varric joked as they finally came up to her.

 

“I think it’s adorable,” Lana replied with a smile at the duo.

 

“Of course you would, fiddles. You found a rock adorable the other day.”

 

“It _was_ adorable, thank you. It looked like a puppy. How’d you get such a close relationship with your hart?” Lana inquired when they’d set on again. “Lealos, right?”

 

The hart looked over, curious at the mention of his name.

 

“Known him since he was a baby. He’s actually only a couple years old. The Dalish clan… uh, I forget their name,” Leolas did a huff sound as Ivy lied, “Don’t laugh at me, fusspot. Anyway, on one of my running after dragons hunts-”

 

“Of course,” Varric interrupted.

 

“Do you want a story or not, undwarfiest dwarf that ever dwarfily dwarfed?”

 

Varric barked a laugh, surprised by that. “Undwarfiest- I like it! Can I _use_ that for my books? I’ll credit you.”

 

“Yeah, sure, credit and go nuts. So pretty much a few dragonlings were uprooted by an idiot troop that – oh by the way, Lana darling, if ever a troop wishes to offer their services to the Inquisition by the name of The Goodwin Company, don’t accept. Blithering idiots the lot of them. Waste of my money. Cut links with the noble that sent me that way, let me tell you! Anywho, so they jumped a drake protecting some of his children and that of course made the dragonlings scatter. Right into a Dalish clan and the dragonlings thought – oh hey, food! They weren’t prepared, just waking up, and the dragonlings ate a third of them before I got to the scene.”

 

“You killed them off?”

 

“Nah, dragonlings of Gamordan Stormriders eat a lot of Veridium.”

 

The Herald looked at her funny for the rather delineated reply. “Huh? Okay, I’ll bite, why? What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“When they’re young, they – uh, the Gamorden babies that is – are still yet to develop into their breath, lightning in this case, and their throat is too delicate for such high levels of magic going through. They must eat the stone not only to settle their stomach and the magic that reacts after eating, but to rip the skin off their throat as it begins to develop multiple layers of cartilage that will harden to protect the throat from immense magical conduction. But too much cartilage will block it up, so they eat veridium to tear it down.”

 

“It’s literally ripping them inside though? Why would they do that?” Lana asked curiously.

 

“Ha! Have you forgotten we’re female? Biological imperative, let's call it.”

 

“Oh. True say.”

 

Varric looked between them. “What?”

 

“Monthlies,” The pair said.

 

“Is that what-” The two of them were looking at him like he was an idiot. “Right, bleeding. How else does one bleed? Ignore the stupid male.”

 

“Will do,” Lana piped up.

 

“It’s okay, Varric.”

 

The dwarf just sighed as Solas threw an amused look his way. “Oh be quiet with that expression, Chuckles. I forgot, alright? It's not like I have them.”

 

“Do not argue on this point. It is useless and an ill-thought, unkind idea.”

 

“O _kay_ , Chuckles.”

 

“Merely making sure you know.”

 

“You’re just trying to win the women over.”

 

“Simply expressing sympathy at pain.”

 

Varric just gave him a look.

 

“I understand the confusion though. It’s like… hmm. When babies are teething, you know? It hurts the baby because teeth are growing through skin. That’s the closest analogy I can make. They like veridium best. There’re several investigations as to why that is, as veridium isn’t exactly the hardest of ores out there but there is the fact that if you use veridium in weapon creations, of staff especially in fact, they enhance lightning based attacks. Some scholars think it’s also empowering their lightning magic in their second set of lungs and other chemicals come into the equation, but I think it’s simpler than that.”

 

“Oh?” Solas added, showing he was interested in this conversation despite having been quiet this whole time on the subject.

 

“I think they just like the colour.” There was a round of snorts that made Ivy grin widely. “If any of you are ever interested, I can pull up some essays and go all hardcore academic on you in Val Royeaux.”

 

Lana hummed, “I think you’d be a great teacher.”

 

Ivy looked back at her with a warm smile. “Thank you, please tell that to the stuffy old professors that disagree when we get to Val Royeaux. I’d be much obliged,” She half-joked. She’d wanted to give summer seminars and even had requests made of her to do so, but according to the University she’d be far too glib and fanciful.

 

Right.

 

“Wait, wait. You said they eat the stone to settle their stomach and magic that reacts, right?”

 

Ivy felt a grin on her face begin, watching as Lana stumbled onto her own theory with a cute little frown on her tattooed face and the two males watched on curiously. “I did,” She replied leadingly.

 

“Well, how can scholars believe that it _empowers_ their lightning if it’s stopping it get so out of control?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“What?”

 

“Exactly. Most of the scholars do _not_ go out of their way to find dragons, using knowledge and excerpts written by others that are fake. Yes, fake. It goes through critique that panders to a certain professors own theory and those professors’ pass it, because hey, nothing escapes The Game. One might need a link they see a possible need for later on after all. This essay getting through gets credit, the person writing gains prestige and a rising in the ranks and the professor gets a favour they can cash in on later.”

 

“But, but that’s _bullshit!_ ”

 

The two males looked a bit shocked by the outburst from their usually confident yet calm Herald but Ivy nodded in agreement, sighing. “Yup. That’s The Game. I'm glad to see you have education held in high regard! Academia is usually a touch kinder when it comes to The Game. Theatre is the _worst_ by the way. Therefore, also the best place to learn The Game. I was thrown in there for a week. I barely got a few hours sleep because everyone’s so goddamn _petty_ there. But Academia does have its own savage ways not in other groups, more striking and offensive to the intellectual kind outside of Orlais. Not that any Orlesian will believe there is such intelligence outside of the Empire. Ferelden dogs, barbarian southerners, depraved Tevinters, pitiful Dalish, bastard Seherons. So on and so forth. Entertaining, really. I keep waiting for the one that makes me giggle each time I hear these names.”

 

“You work there, right? How do you _survive_ that kind of stuff?”

 

“It’s a little hard to argue with the lady that drags in a dead drake for experimentation on the body and shows her findings in your face or gleefully brings in a caged dragonling right through the streets of Val Royeaux to watch them in the University for food eating habits and sleeping preferences and the like. Don’t worry, he’s treated well. We love Deuteronomy. Get’s a bit flare-y at times but actually pretty tame – he likes fondant icing. Weird for a dragon. But he does love being scratched with a broom under the chin. His back leg thumps adorably, like a puppy. Oh! Usually-”

 

Varric coughed, not seeing the elf males eyes flicker to him in slight disapproval. “So, the clan?”

 

“Right, right. Uh…” She paused, thinking back to where she was. “So I used the veridium to draw them away and they naturally go nuts for it and they run off after it when I threw it. Quite like a pack of Mabari pups. I did help the clan kill them off because they did actually grow too close to villages and were safety hazards, but I was only able to join more to the end of the battle after finding more veridium close by. They accused me of trying to kill the clan – because apparently I can talk to dragons or something by knowing them so well – and well, I fell to the floor and begged their understanding. It was my money and hired company that decimated their holdings and I knew the bastards had cleared the area and taken off with my nuggalope as well and had scarpered so they’d never believe me if I put the blame rightfully on their shoulders. But something about a shemlan bowing to them on her knees gave them their jollies.”

 

Varric snickered at _that_ sentence but stopped at the looks from the two elves he was with at his pervy thoughts. “Oh, I wasn’t the only one thinking it!”

 

Ivy chuckled and drew attention back on her. “For the next couple months I was pretty much their whipping girl. Something bad happens? Blame the wretched shem! Not enough food for that week? Shem can go without. The quickling is big enough already. Yeah, me and Dalish clans don’t do too well together now. I came through with selling off the dragonlings parts so they eventually trusted me with their halla, not much wanting to deal with me but keep me around for my use and market knowhow of dragon goods. They got money, traded it for things they needed, was able to repair and get more aravels, grew twice as big as they were before. They gained lots of statues for their pantheon worshipping too. I left when Lealos was big enough to run out of there.”

 

“What do you think of our Gods and Goddesses?”

 

Solas didn’t change his position, but did listen a little more intently for an outside human perspective of Dalish rituals and the Evanuris he was highly displeased with.

 

Wanted to know of her opinion of his legends.

 

“Everyone can have their belief, I just tend to stay away from that stuff, though it was curious to see what they did for each. The worst was Andruil in my opinion. They always twanged three arrows into a tree for Andruil and drained blood of a living hare below it for blessings from her. I thought that was stupid, I mean,” Ivy put her hands together, saying in a Chantry voice, “ _Oh holy being with momentous power, let me murder your favourite animal and spill its blood over your like and I pray for your blessing!_ Just, noooo, what are you doing? If someone took my cat or just any cat in general and killed it in my name and spilt its’ blood over my likeness I’d want to whack them one. How dare you kill Ser Fluffykins, you absolute monster.”

 

Lana snickered but nodded in agreement. “Fair point. And the others?”

 

“Of the pantheon? Hm. Ghilan’nain was fine, no heartless murder of halla and they cared for them in her name and asked for her blessing when journeying. Sylaise was fine and songs of her were sung when sowing. So was Mythal. They just lit candles for her in aid of protection before the night came. Said _Elgar’nan give me strength_ before battle and kept those two statues close always. Don’t get me started on the Fen’Harel one. Dirthamen and Falon’Din were most interesting to me for their connection to each other. The reflection and shadow of each other? Quite lovely to me. I _think_ they’re my favourite ones. They were prayed to mostly when I heard them invoked at the beginning from the elves as they burnt some of their fallen.”

 

It was the dwarf that brought up, “You’ve words for the rest but not for the Fen’Harel one?”

 

Solas really wanted to know why.

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

He couldn’t help it.

 

“Why ever not?” Solas questioned, wanting to know what she thought of his tales and unable to help but push.

 

Ivy took note of that, and wanting to please him she gave in. “Alright, alright. So I saw them put this wolf statue out of the camp, right on the edge, so I asked them about it one of the first few nights that they still hated me for being anything but Dalish and told me to go sleep by him because they didn’t trust me still. Apparently it’s an insult? I don’t know, but there was enough space for me to squeeze between the front legs from the rain. The Dalish _love_ teaching people their lore like it’s the only thing that should matter so it’s pretty easy to get them talking on it. No offence, Lana.”

 

“None taken. It’s an accurate perspective.”

 

“I asked about it. They said he trapped gods in the heavens and the abyss, tricking them both and they didn’t want that trickiness being brought into their camp and ruining the peace because he’s a betrayer.”

 

“Makes sense,” Lana nodded in agreement.

 

“You’re joking, right?”

 

“No?”

 

“Okay so this guy was powerful enough to lock his fellow gods – and I’m assuming they must all had relative levels of powers to keep some semblance of peace between them for millenia – in these places and also had enough cunning and charm and ingenuity to do so and you… put him outside? Where he can do all sorts of trickiness or what have you? Where you can’t keep an eye on him? Have you ever even been to Orlais? You do that and you’d get lowered down the chain _so bloody fast_ even the homeless would smirk down at you for lack of The Game adeptness. Nah, sweetheart, you bring that statue in and put him smack dab in the middle of the camp and worship him like is done to the others. Terrible is still an achievement of ‘greatness’.”

 

The marked elf blinked. “What? Worship? _Achievement?_ ”

 

“ _Why_ piss that one off by shoving him to the side? Worship the guy and hope he doesn’t disfavour you. Skill like that is to still be respected, even if warily. Dragons are great beings, powerful, majestic, awe-inspiring in their blood-thirstiness; would I turn my back to one and leave it at the camp edge? Certainly not. No-no-no, you surround that creature on all sides so it doesn’t get any funny ideas. Dalish and their pantheon ways.”

 

Solas felt an odd smugness about that, a little smirk on his lips.

 

Lana was about to disagree and argue, so Varric added in, “How’d you get the hart though?”

 

“During an early part of that time with the Dalish, one of the harts died in giving birth to her young. Naturally the hah’ren had to blame the dirty shemlen for her bringing bad luck and said the hart was also bad luck… somehow but hey, more fool them because the hart saw me and attached to me and grew to be the best boy ever that I took away from their undeserving arses, right Lealos?” She scratched his shoulder.

 

Lealos swished his head and stood proud and mighty.

 

“The Dalish aren’t that cruel.”

 

“Say that to my memories and Lealos. They’re as rotten as any human and dwarf and qunari can be when you’re away from judgemental eyes or those that can lawfully inflict punishment and in that cruel mob mentality. I was not treated well under the Dalish. Spite on both sides now.”

 

“But with the God Fen’Harel’s statue-”

 

Ivy shifted up from petting her baby. “We clearly disagree on this. How about we talk about Sylaise? Her and Andruil ring most in tune to me, so to speak. All that hearth, home, and hunting business.”

 

“I just don’t think he should be in the middle.”

 

The martial artist said nothing, shaking her head silently.

 

“C’mon fiddles, let’s not speak to the _Orlesian_ about why she’d think ill of a people who seem to think ill of a god known to be about trickiness and charm and back-stabbing.”

 

“Plus I think of him as a stressed out father putting his kids in time out in different corners because they couldn’t play nice.”

 

Solas laughed suddenly at that because in the end, it rather _was_ that, if only light-heartedly put instead of the actual said constant back-stabbing and bloodshed and baselessness that happened. He raised a brow at the looks he got from the other three as they rode. “I found it amusing for it to be so succinctly put and so well at that.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Ivy teased, grinning over her shoulder at him.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Ha!”

 

“Where’d you get that father phrase from?” Varric asked.

 

“My dad ran a training hall to teach self-defence. Mum always sent my elder brother and I off to there to go learn and not be under her feet while taking care of our younger siblings. Us two brats were only a year and a bit apart so there was always the challenge between us to be the best. It was fairly even until he went off to study and I stuck it out as a martial arts teacher. Anyway, we were pains in the arses enough that we knew the look from papa that said, ‘ _Go to your corners, you’re being little shits and you’re embarrassing me_ ’ really well. He didn’t have to say a thing after a while. We saw that look and we moved _swiftly_ or had to do several hundred of some repetition or other. But he was great, always laughing and so very kind. I had great parents personally. What about you guys?”

 

“Mine want me to be good little noble-son and marry off but… eh, surfacer dwarf. I’m a merchant prince. Hard life, living in a tavern and telling stories,” Varric snickered.

 

Solas spoke up softly, “I had kind ones, accepting of me wishing to travel to improve my Fade adventures. I always fondly recall how exuberant my mother was.”

 

“My clan kept me happy, mother died in childbirth but dad lived until I was nearly nine and killed by a great bear. That was ten years ago.”

 

“I lost mine about the same time, actually. Wouldn’t happen to have been in Orlais and used that excellent elf hearing to overhear conspiracies, would you?” Ivy asked, trying to lighten it up.

 

“What would a great bear be doing in a bustling Orlesian city?”

 

Varric raised a brow and stated, “It’s Orlais. They’re _novelty_ pets.”

 

“Yup! Some even do _tricks_.”

 

“Is there really someone called Lady Bear?” Varric asked curiously, brown eyes glinting. “I heard it but even I thought it was a bit too fanciful to be believable.”

 

“Yes! She’s the one with the trick performing bears! I might be able to introduce you if we have time,” Ivy mused, thinking of her schedule, knowing it may be the last time she would get to travel to Val Royeaux in many months. “If she is doing a salon then definitely. Hey, Solas-”

 

“You did,” He replied simply, making her grin widely at him and turned to the storyteller, making him smile gently as well, happy to have delighted her.

 

“Hey, Varric, you’re in luck!”

 

The merchant prince held up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait…”

 

“Hm?”

 

“What was _that?_ ” The dwarf replied in turn, pointing between them.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Yes. What was that?” Lana added, already in a bit of a mood from the wolf statue placement and now feeling a bit biting now her crush was close enough with another woman that she let him go through her mail.

 

Ivy looked at them, bewildered.

 

Solas said nothing, revealing none of his thoughts.

 

“Sharing mail? How _intimate_.”

 

“…Really? The mail. Mundane invitations to salons.”

 

Solas couldn’t help it, smirking as he said idly, “They’re reading into it too much.”

 

“Yes, they- _did you just-?_ ” She caught onto the pun, turning to him incredulously.

 

“I did just.”

 

“Ugh. Bite at Solas, Lealos.” The hart looked up and turned to Solas, gnashing his teeth at the elf in question. “Let that be a lesson to you.”

 

Solas smirked. “I shall take it to hart.”

 

She laugh-groaned with Varric on that one as even Lana snickered at that. “Ah, no-ho-hooo, I practically _walked_ into that one!” There was a pause in conversation and was quiet for a moment or two before Ivy grudgingly admitted, “That was a really good pun, actually.”

 

Varric nodded, “Agreed.”

 

“You’re welcome,” The mage smirked to himself, appreciative of their acknowledgement.

 

“Thank you,” Ivy winked and turned forward again after Solas turned that smirk on her.

 

The dwarf continued, “Two puns in one and a play on phrase. Chuckles, have you been reading my work?”

 

“More like _not_ reading your work, ha!” The dragon hunter quipped. Then she continued at his offended look, “Oh, my dear, dear, writer friend! I looked up some of your _stuff_ in the Chantry a couple weeks back! Do you know what I _found_?”

 

“Don’t say Sw-”

 

“ _Swords and Shields! Varric!_ ” She burst out laughing and he groaned. "It was hilarious! You are terrible at romances serials!"

 

He sighed, loud and frustrated, but with a rueful grin on his face. "Alright, alright! So it's not my niche, give me a break. It was for the popularity and money. And my editor. Scary woman, her."

 

Lana spoke up, apparently fully over whatever it was bothering her. “That was the first series of his I found as well. It’s so bad it’s enjoyable in its awfulness.”

 

“Well, there’s a reason I never finished it, ladies. So Ivy, you know a lot for your age.”

 

The Scot looked at him in bemusement. “Uh. What? Also, we’re just on topics I can speak for ages on. And my age? Say what now? You don’t even know how old I am.”

 

Not willing to touch the subject of age with a woman, he went on, “But you work in the University, right?”

 

“I do.”

 

“Can you get us all into the University?”

 

“Yes, of course, I work there. Why?”

 

“Oh no, nothing major, nothing major at all, I just have a business partner there to talk to.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“Face to face, you know how it is.”

 

“Uh-huh. Continue.”

 

“Face to face… and possibly with Bianca in hand to, uh, show her capabilities off. Nothing major at all.”

 

“Well, we can go see whatever exhibition is currently open because my companions are of course my honoured guests and I must keep them happy and entertained and showed the work of superior Orlesian minds to. If one of my companions needs to go to the toilets and takes a while to marvel at the technology and mechanics of the plumbing of Orlais because it truly is grander to that of anywhere else in Thedas and that appeals to his dwarviness, what does it matter? I was completely distracted by Lana’s absolute inquisitiveness over the Orlesian splendour and Solas was quietly taking in the multitude of fantastic Elven artwork we own. Nothing major.”

 

Lana and Solas looked at each other at being dragged into this.

 

“That’s it exactly. Nothing major.”

 

Ivy smiled and looked back at the dwarf with a twinkle in her eye. “That of course, comes with the unspoken favour you would owe _each_ of us for all ignoring whatever may be happening.”

 

The two elves smirked at each other, understanding, and turned back to the show.

 

“That’s-”

 

“Entirely fair, yes.” The Herald nodded.

 

Solas hummed, “I am in full agreement.”

 

“Ah, fine. I’ve been chasing this one down for years. You wouldn’t be too greedy, would you? Would you guys?”

 

“For years, you say?” Solas asked in interest as reply making Varric grimace, a wider smirk growing on his face at the backfiring plea.

 

Ivy looked to Varric with a grin. “Distracting very watchful Orlesian Professors jealously guarding their exhibition and lifetime work?”

 

“And likely having to pander to them and their bullshit?” Lana added with her own ‘innocent’ smile.

 

Varric groaned. “Alright! I don’t get to set a limit.”

 

Ivy nodded. “I’m up for it." She turned to the elf man next to her. "Solas?”

 

“I concur. Herald Ellana?”

 

“Why not? Varric? We got a deal?”

 

“You people drive a hard bargain.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“Yes, but we’re _your_ people, _Swords and Shields_.”

 

“So enjoy that!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_I have indeed. Perhaps we shall talk more of it when we reach your quarters in Val Royeaux?_

 

_I will be most pleased to debate anything that takes your fancy with you._

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_Takes my fancy?_

_Would you, on the off-chance, terribly mind me dressing you up?_

_There are a few items of clothing I want to see you in._

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

\---

_Only if, I, too, get the chance._

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

\---

_Of course._

\---

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to throw in more dragon stuff because making up that kind of stuff is just plain fun! Hope you liked it x
> 
> 18/9


	8. Playing To The Crowds - Alternatively; Being Orlesian

****

 

 

**Chapter Eight**

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_Have you ever minded boats?_

_\---_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

_\---_

_Only if they’re short journeys!_

_The long ones just take a while and are not really my thing._

_\---_

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

 

_\---_

_What would be your ‘thing’, Dragon Expert?_

_Would it be long or take a while?_

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_It’s all rather about the experience is it not?_

_Long or short, as long as it’s highly engaging and something worth tattooing into memory._

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

Out of all of them, Lealos was the best with the ship.

 

The new ship-hands stared at the beast as it sat near the side and looked over the side at the relatively peaceful tides, head on the side and owner up against him, reading a book under a waterproof parasol so her book didn’t get wet. Lealos didn’t mind her added weight on him but he did turn and huff at the hands of the ship, shaking his great head when they got too close and making them scatter. Each time Ivy pat him on the back absently, murmuring, “Good boy,” and then turning a page. The older hands knew her as she’d spent much time at docks to and from Val Royeaux, and Lealos was also well used to the ships by now, having been on them since infancy.

 

It was the second hour on the ship, and they were due to dock in an hour or so.

 

Lana came over and plonked herself down next to Ivy, who covertly placed the note from her book away, along with the rest from Solas, in a pocket on her belt. Just in case she risked upsetting the lass who clearly had  crush on the man she was having _relations_  with. “Can I lay my head on your lap?”

 

Ivy simply lifted her book in reply and rest it on the back of Lana when the elf lay down on her with a groan, shutting her eyes and burying her head in Ivy’s stomach and hugging her around the waist. “Not feeling the sea?”

 

“Sea is feeling me too much. How do you _stay_ up here?”

 

Ivy idly stroked the teen’s hair, holding her book with one hand. She smiled down at the girl fondly, beginning to feel a bit motherly over her. “With small journeys like this, I tend not to eat and drink. I’ve already puked up what little I did have from being up here about ten minutes ago and I do my best to stay away from the chamber-pot room. I’m much happier without that in my week. Longer journey’s I pretty much put up and shut up. We’re… all on the same page.”

 

“You were going to go with all on the same _bo_ -”

 

“Don’t say it!”

 

Lana snickered and looked up at her instead of keeping her eyes closed. “You really dislike puns, huh?”

 

Ivy was quiet for a moment, thinking back to the ones who did like them. “I liked them in another life. A couple good men I knew were _too_ good at them and I cackled at each while others groaned. Hey, have some mint.” Ivy went to her beloved mounts bags that were next to her precious boy and giving his poor back a break and took some out. “It’ll settle your stomach a little as well as get rid of puke breath.”

 

“Thanks.” Lana stuffed some leaved in her mouth and began chewing it. “You’re like a mom.”

 

Ivy felt warmth in her for that and murmured softly, pleased, “I’ll take that as a compliment. I am starting to feel parental adoration for you.,” She teased, making the elf chuckle and go quiet. She flipped the page of her book and was able to read a couple paragraphs when,

 

“I still disagree with the placement of the statue.”

 

It made her sigh. “Seriously, daughter? Again?”

 

Lana smiled at that and said earnestly, “I think they should all be in a circle, facing their aligned constellations.”

 

Ivy paused at that, taking that in. “Good idea. They could accurately tell the time and follow navigational routes via the stars. Ghilan’nain would be pleased, Mythal would be happy for all to come together, Fen’Harel would like the ingenuity and June would also like his crafts proving more useful than mere ornaments.”

 

That made the elf jerk and look up at her in surprise. “You think so? I thought…”

 

“I’d disagree with it all? The only thing I’d argue would be dragons and fighting until the druffalo come home, and then deep into the night until the candles burn down and the sun rises once more for another day of debating. Because I’m going to out-stubborn you, damnit.”

 

Lana giggled and drew the conversation onto other elven avenues for the rest of the journey.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

\---

_I will also tell that what takes my fancy is not what’s coming up next, Fade Expert._

\---

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ivy really wanted to disguise herself, but with Lealos any cover would be blown.

 

Already Varric was noticing them bow.

 

“Hey, Ivy. Did you see that?”

 

She pretended to tend to Lealos. “Pardon? Could you repeat that?” Lealos snorted at her when she tugged a few hairs on purpose. “Lealos here is a bit loud in my ear.”

 

Varric looked around, but people had moved on, murmuring with each other excitedly. “Nothing?” His eyes narrowed, on the watch for it now.

 

“Alrighty. This way.” Ivy led them to the main gate, knowing it was better to get over this sooner rather than later. There were multiple entrances into Val Royeaux – the main gates were for the nobles and other high class members of surrounding countries awhile the other ones were for bringing in ‘unslightly’ items, like storage boxes and carriages.

 

Very unseemly indeed.

 

Orlesian’s loved everything masked and beautiful to the point of tacky.

 

Not that there was anything such as tacky here.

 

Oh no no.

 

Ivy kept to the side of the group as the Herald led the way in.

 

Cassandra was waiting for them with a scout at the front gates, having gone ahead to prepare for their arrival and hopefully talk to the Templars, but no such luck was reported by crow as had been expected. “We’ve a situation. The people believe the Templars will protect them from us, the Inquisition. They’re awaiting us on the other side of the market. It would seem word has gone forth about our arrival.”

 

Varric added in, “Only one thing to do then.” He walked on in first, noting the few people milling about and then they bowed to the group before scattering. “I know I didn’t imagine that this time! Seeker, you saw that right? What’s the verdict?”

 

_Shut up, shut up, shut up-_

 

The Seeker snorted. “That would be the fans of Ivy.”

 

_Goddamn it, Cass’._

 

“ _What?_ ” Varric laughed but then he saw another couple bow her way before alarm and confusion on their face at the sight of the Herald had them double timing it away. “What have you done? Even my fans don’t do that for me.”

 

“You did not tell them?” Cassandra asked of Ivy who gave a little grin and a sheepish shrug of the shoulders. “I can understand.” She turned to the other three. “Many people, including myself, greatly admire our friend here for the deeds she has done. In your dwarven terms, I believe she would be a Paragon. Ivy is no mere dragon enthusiast. She is one of the foremost dragon hunters the world has seen for many, many centuries. Our rejecting her the first time had turned quite the few nobles and the more politically powerful Mothers of the Chantry of Orlais who do adore her achievements for Orlais against us.”

 

“You’ve killed a dragon?” Lana asked, eyes wide and impressed, “Really?”

 

“Yah-huh.”

 

Cassandra laughed. “Not just any dragon. High dragons. It is the reason Ivy was placed on _this_ particular journey with you in our first weak steps. Val Royeaux is her home town. Her great influence in this city will help us. Already word has spread that the Godslayer is allied to the Inquisition. It is very good to have. In fact, the only reason we are here so long is because Leliana wanted that influence, and in turn Ivy gets to deal with her own business and use us how she pleases. But only in limitation, yes, Godslayer?”

 

Solas’s eyebrow went up and he saw Ivy exhale up at the sky.

 

_Godslayer?_

 

So this was the one his agents had picked out as someone to watch out for or potentially bring on aboard?

 

His lips twitched at that.

 

He might just have to make that a personal problem to happily deal with.

 

“Yes, Seeker dearest. I’ll just flaunt you lot off.”

 

“As per usual for Orlesian’s.”

 

“We are sublime and it simply must show in our companions!”

 

“Godslayer?” Varric chuckled gleefully as the woman cringed and her shoulders rose, grimacing at him. “Looks like I’ve finally found your nickname.”

 

“ _Please_ don’t.”

 

Lana hummed. “The high dragons as archdemons are considered old gods, right? It makes sense. Snazzy. I like it. That’s badass.”

 

Ivy sighed again and looked to her with a wry smile, approving of a Dalish knowing this knowledge. “Only for the Tevinter’s, and it's a bit of a stretch. It just plays to the Orlesian needs for grandeur and drama; it is pushed forward by the people as a thumb to the nose at other countries. That specific one in general. No one ever calls me that here unless foreigners visit our supreme city at a business meeting or it’s some sort of major salon. At first I smiled and went with it because it was amusing as anything, but then some super rich and temporarily influential noble called me it and bowed to me when he was drunk at a gathering of his and suddenly _boom_ , bowing everyone. So yes, now that talk is over with-” She rushed but was interrupted.

 

“How many high dragons?” Varric asked instantly, wanting more information and knowing she was about to shut down the conversation.

 

“-Hey-”

 

Cassandra smirked at the bothered dragon hunter and stated, “By my last information from a distant cousin that works in the University under the Honoured Professor here, twenty four.”

 

Ivy would not say that it was five more.

 

“You’ve killed twenty four high dragons?!” Lana squeaked in alarm.

 

The Scot buried her face in her mount’s neck and breathed out as they walked along the bridge into the marketplace. “It was with _battalions_. There were others, I promise. I just led them. The first bunch of hunts were mad scrambles for survival because we got that bit too close on research trips.”

 

“That does not matter. Trust me, I know.” Cassandra drawled. “It was accomplished in three years,” The Seeker added to the others. “Most would claim the glory of one high dragon in their life. Ivy adores the hunt. She is most remarkable and the people feel any insult on her is an insult on Val Royeaux.”

 

“It’s not _that_ bad.” Ivy remarked and nodded back automatically when a couple of Orlesian kids bowed to her. They squealed in delight and ran off. There was a small pause as yet more bowed to her and then excitedly talked to one another when she simply looked at them. She felt the stared from her companions and closed her eyes with another sigh. “Okay, maybe it’s kind of a little like that. The awkwardness of it is gone, but it apparently comes back when friends see it.”

 

“Aww, are we friends, _Godslayer?_ ”

 

“You saying it like that proves we are, _Swords and Shields_.”

 

“Ugh, truce?”

 

“Truce.”

 

“Anything else we should know about you and Orlais?” Lana asked, still a bit blown away from this information. The older woman was just this overly-keen dragon enthusiast and cheerful fighting looney to her. Apparently that came with a bucket load of prestige and paragon levels of awe. “We know you’re this honoured professor person-”

 

“‘Honoured’ - why is that, Seeker?” Varric asked, smirking at Ivy.

 

“I can answer this mys-”

 

“It means that she did not need to study at a University to become one of the foremost expert Draconologists in Thedas. It was bestowed upon her after high dragon ten to shut up the squealing fans.”

 

“Oh come on! It wasn’t just a free ticket into Professorship!” Ivy put a hand to her chest and stated loudly, “I did many essays-”

 

“You know a great deal about our Ivy. Something you’re not telling us, Seeker?” Varric verbally poked.

 

“I’m a Pentaghast. When another dragon hunter of worth is about, we take note; when a singular one is going about creating her own legend we stand up and begin to worry our own legend will be laughed at, not that it already isn’t nowadays. At least my family does. I for one am happy the attention is no longer to be on me.” Cassandra nodded as more and more people took note of Ivy’s arrival. “Ha. All the Godslayer is missing is some sort of artistic divine glow to these people. It is most amusing.”

 

“Stop. I’ll blush,” Ivy said dryly, so done with this conversation.

 

Lana snickered and went with that tangent, “A white aura?”

 

“People.”

 

“Halcyon would be better,” Varric disagreed.

 

“ _Halcy_ \- no, hush!”

 

“Perhaps the colour of starlight would be preferable,” Solas added, having been quietly taking this all in and watching what the woman would do. She’d smiled and nodded back at children, but adults merely got her eyes on them. Godslayer. He smiled at the thought, thinking of his own legend and being a ‘god’ and his attraction to her.

 

Ironic and highly amusing.

 

He was rather sure he wouldn’t mind being _conquered_ by her.

 

“Solas, you were my last hope at no teasing!” Ivy laughed lightly at him and shook her head when she faced forward. “But, mind on Templars, please?”

 

“You are right,” Cassandra nodded as they saw a Cleric up ahead preaching her thoughts of the Inquisition. Lana hummed in annoyance and strode on up with Ivy, Solas, and Varric raising their brows at each other at this abrupt action, with Cassandra gasping out, “Herald!”

 

“The Breach is the enemy!” Lana called out.

 

Cassandra backed her up. “It’s true; the Inquisition only seeks to end this madness before it is too late!”

 

Ivy groaned from in between Solas and Varric, making them look at her. “Ah shit, lesson number one, Orlesian’s despise bluntness. It offends them and their intellect. Never say things so bluntly, _gosh_.” Then Templars came in from the side. “But they love _drama_ … Hm. Varric, slant me.”

 

“What?”

 

“Really, you’ve never-?” Her eyes widened at the sight of the Mother being clocked over the head and with a cry she dropped forcefully. “Shit! Lealos! Ama mamae!” She commanded and the hart screeched and _charged_ in righteous fury, jumping clear over the people in one humungous leap and landing perfectly over the fallen mother and shrieking in the face of the bastard that did this, head down and horn facing him threateningly. The man stumbled back in fear.

 

“That was an impressive jump,” Varric murmured under his breath, everyone staring in stunned shock at the sudden appearance. “Impeccably dramatic, too.”

 

“ _Still yourself, she is beneath us._ ”

 

“My excellent boy.” Ivy sighed to herself happily. Seeing the perfect time to move in, Ivy muttered, “Alright, drama from my artiste, here I go, here we go, _now,_ ” and she broadened herself proudly and stepped forward in the silence, causing heads to turn to her immediately at the commanding clack of her boots and making them part for her with excited whispers. “I come back to my beautiful city and its’ denizens to bring hope to all Orlesian’s of a new order that can safeguard us from the enemy, and this is what I find?" She asked, incredulous, hands waving emotively and voice just that touch more passionate. "Cruel men of the _supposed_ virtuous Templar order, abusing _our_ kind and benevolent Mothers of the peaceful Chantry that seek only to help the good people of Orlais in front of everyone, like savage _dogs_ of _Fereldan?_ ”

 

“Nice, nice.” Varric nodded as Ivy affected a hurt and disbelieving look at them all circling around to look as many in the eye as possible.

 

Solas looked peacefully settled in to watch, yet his hand was gripping his staff tight and his eyes were intent.

 

“ _The Godslayer!_ ”

 

“ _Lady Ivy has returned!_ ”

 

“And what would our _illustrious_ dragon hunter know of orders?”

 

“You say that as if I do not command battalions of courageous men to fight against such strikingly terrifying beasts that seek their own glory! That it does not demand synchronicity and working under orders perfectly to keep us all alive!” Ivy replied, doing her best to recall words one of her artistes would use. “But not once have any of my men hit a frail woman only crying out for the best for her people, whose trust gets broken like the back of her head your men just tried to cave in.” The crowd had seen the shows of her Phillipe, could see the reference and nodded more at that than the actual meaning in her words. “A disgusting act that _spits_ in the face of any Orlesian.”

 

The crown murmured and rumbled their agreement.

 

“Her claim to authority is an insult!”

 

Ivy wracked her brain as she shook her head pityingly at him. What would Phillipe- ah! Lavish on more kind attention on the Mother, highlight how dastardly a deed the Templar had done. “She merely wishes to take on the heavy and altruistic burden that is the shattered pieces of a Chantry and when she wishes for help, _this happens_.” She waved a hand at the Mother who whimpered on time. “The Herald would never let this happen in her Inquisition.”

 

Lana had a clearly fake grin at this performance as she offered a hand to the Mother who was just slandering her moments ago and pulled her up, making the crowd rumble and nod approvingly.

 

_Yeeees, play it up! Perfect!_

 

“Clearly the city has no need for the supreme protection of the Templars!” The Templar leader said in disgust and growled out a command. “We leave!”

 

The martial artist had one last thing to say, “Any good men who do not believe in such things, would not _abandon_ us, and want to help close the Breach are _welcome_ in Haven.”

 

They left, stomping away, but a good few remained and came up to Ivy, bowing.

 

Ivy recognised one of the bunch as a man who’d been in battle with her against a trio of dragonlings on the cusp of adulthood a year back. “Christophe?”

 

The man frowned and shook his head. “I cannot believe- we wish to join. The Lord Seeker has changed. We know you would not guide us wrong, Professor.”

 

“I can only believe you. Cassandra? Would you help these good men to get to Haven and advise on things to take with them…?”

 

“Of course, Godslayer.”

 

Ivy kept the grin on her face even as her eyes narrowed the slightest of increments and Cassandra smirked at her and waved, one of Leliana’s scouts appearing next to her. With a huff of amusement, Ivy turned to the still protecting hart and said to him warmly, “Lealos’lath, suleth sura,” _Lealos, love, come forth,_ bidding him over and drawing Solas’s attention instantly from the lengthier Elvish. The hart did so, seeking attention for doing such a good job, which Ivy lavished him with. “Who’s getting a nice horn-sanding, lots of grapes and a nice rub down from Auntie Annie?” Lealos pranced on the spot hopefully. “Yes, you are! Go!”

 

He wailed out and then dashed off home down the road behind the stand the Mother was at and then keened loudly to the right, mount-hands coming out to care for him.

 

Varric raised a brow. “That’s your home?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Pretty close to the market of Val Royeaux. I’m impressed.”

 

“Good it’s so close, because we need to have words, Ivy.”

 

Ivy raised a brow as she kept the smile on her face at Lana. “Away from the spotlight, Herald? Sure.” A minute later, it was in the opening room of her manor that Lana turned on her but Ivy put a hand up, having changed in approach.

 

Solas had watched her almost transform before him. She was cheerful and bright in personality, but now there seemed to be a prowling animal inside her, locked onto the scents of weakness and making the usually cheerful front seem rare to find, and something in him highly approved of that. She could fight, but still had this bit of kindness in her that she'd shown first. The type to give a chance with her true self and then should it be betrayed, there was that predator in her that would lock its jaws around the enemy. It had him shifting on the spot.

 

"Perhaps an explanation?" Cassandra asked quickly.

 

“Indeed. I take control because it is Val Royeaux, I know the people and their dramatic ways well. Yes, I will use you to make me look better just as Leliana uses me to make the Inquisition look big and important to Orlais, home of the Chantry and Andrastrianism. In Val Royeaux, I will expect you to follow my lead as has been promised to me. Herald, let me add something here as you get offended again. _I_ am the face of Val Royeaux to the Inquisition to these people. Do you know what it will do for the entire nation of Orlais to turn their back on the Inquisition? Do you think I could not form my own brigadier corps to fight against the Inquisition with?”

 

“That’s one hell of a blow, hunter,” Varric said quietly as Lana fumed.

 

“That it is, and Leliana knows it well. Empress Celene may be respected, but I am loved. Now. You are under the employ of Cassandra and Leliana and Josephine and Cullen. If you wish to take offense at how things are handled, bring it to Leliana, who had promised the three of your talents to my use while in Val Royeaux as I agreed to have you in my home and the use of my name. Until then, I have _plans_ for you all.” She smiled knowingly.

 

“I-”

 

“Milady Ivy!” The Scot was slammed into and hugged tight, kissed presses all over her face by a beautiful elf male.

 

Solas felt his ears lower in annoyance, twitching.

 

“Ah, Phillipe! How cheered you are!”

 

“My lady!” He let go and bowed deeply and she replied in kind. “I have been very busy since you left! Of course, the food hasn’t been up to scratch; is Mama Cook getting old? Ow!” He rubbed his head as a ladle smacked him in the back of it, elf ears twitching in pain as the old human woman came shuffling up. “Ack!”

 

“As if my food would ever be lacking, brat,” Mama cook declared as Phillipe sniffed unhappily, hugged Ivy once more and slunk away to his room. “Milady, it is good to see you and to have company! You must be hungry; you never eat over the Waking Sea. I have fresh tomatoes for you to munch on.”

 

Solas looked at her. Did she not? He felt foolish that he did not notice this simple thing. He would improve upon himself.

 

Ivy perked up and then caught the large tomato Mama threw at her. “Are our tomatoes ready then?”

 

“No, we have them from the La Croix’s stall.”

 

“Still good. If you have any favoured meals, tell Mama now. She will make it for you. Tonight, please ask anything of my staff. Mama, Permettre à l'homme chauve de me trouver, Dès que possible, devrait-il demander. Mama will guide you, have a good nights sleep.” Ivy bowed to them and left, needing some time alone.

 

_Allow the bald man to find me, as soon as possible, should he ask._

 

Mama smiled and nodded, knowing to keep the other three a little further away if Ivy used another language rapidly. “I shall bring you to your rooms.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

Ivy looked up as Mama guided Solas to her room a mere twenty minutes later with her scribbling away on a piece of parchments for business meetings time approval.

 

The cook left them be with a smile, happy at young affection.

 

“Solas.”

 

“Ivy.”

 

She tugged off her writing gloves as she lifted up and came over to him, holding both hands out that he took, turning their hands over so he held hers instead. “Ha.” She smiled at their hands lightly before looking up at him, only for his arms to drag her own behind her and push her up to him, kissing her deeply. She melted into him with a little feminine grunt and sighed through her nose, shuffling her body close to his. He hummed and pushed her close to her bed, watching fondly as he pushed her back so she fell onto it and she jiggled nicely, simply in a cami top of silk and watching her shift in matching soft orange shorts to sit up to get closer to him.

 

“Why, Solas!” She grinned widely about to tease him but he dipped down and silenced her with another kiss and pushed her gently so her back hit the bed, hands on either side of her head. She hummed happily into the kiss, leg absently bouncing cheerfully as her arms wrapped around his neck.

 

He chuckled at her pleased actions, breaking the kiss and mentioning, “I wish to stay with you.”

 

She waved at her bed and tapped it, shuffling up to the top with the cushions. “Please do.”

 

He crawled onto it, intending this to be the night they joined together but then he stilled and slumped to the side of her with a sigh at the sheer quality of her bed.

 

“Wonderful, right?”

 

“What a superb bed. I had aimed for us to enjoy each other…” He rubbed her thigh.

 

Ivy laughed, understanding as she shoved the cover down with him following suit after her, taking off his clothing but for breeches and chucking them to a nearby chair and properly slumped beside herself with a sigh, eyes closing. “Same. Night-night Solas.”

 

A kiss to her hair made her smile and an arm over her collarbone and thigh over hers made her hum, gently clutching onto the bicep. He smiled to himself, taking in her warm, decadent scent and feeling at peace for the night. “Goodnight, Ivy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Phillipe next chapter! Also, thank you all for so many kudos and comments and the 40 bookmarks, all are appreciated xx
> 
> 22/9


	9. Runes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos! Didn't expect to reach 200+ so quickly, so I'm glad you're all enjoying yourselves in this sandbox!

 

**Chapter Nine**

 

 

Warmth surrounded Ivy, a perfect temperature to never want to get up from.

 

She stretched, wanting to roll on her front but realised she was blocked by a body circling hers, face buried into the side of hers with an arm comfortably under her neck and twisting up to hold her head and a thigh over her waist. It seemed she was not to move. Fine with her, it was so nice and warm here and her body was being gently _rubbed_ and nuzzled by another so nicely… She was halfway back into sleep when the body sharing her bed rolled on her right side, torso between her thighs and a hand gently shackling her wrists together. A forearm under her hips tilted them and when she finally opened her eyes, a mouth sucked over the cloth covering her lady parts, right on the clit and the closed them, groaning, “Ahhh!” and let her head slump back as her back arched.

 

The swiftness her body riled up to build to her orgasm stunned her and she realised the rubbing had woken her up and already turned her on during sleep, shorts already damp and nipples aching.

 

When Solas kissed her hard on the neck, her eyes opened, dazed and confused and then looked at him incredulously, chest breathing hard, as he smirked and got up. She watched as he looked her over in pleasure at the heaving chest and wet spots. “Do not even think about coming until I let you,” He remarked wickedly and exited the room to go back to his, pleased by how he left her.

 

It took a moment for her to process that.

 

“That _bastard._ ”

 

She smirked and rolled over into a sitting up position and got up, grabbing clothing as feeling utterly needful from being on the cusp of an orgasm.

 

“That _glorious_ bastard.”

 

A quick bath later (hands hovering before deciding not to ride herself to orgasm) and dressed up in a dress that only fell to her knees, with a thick sash around her waist with her house crest at the end and both swished about fancifully, a shawl around her back and elbows with matching Orlesian stockings and heels, she whistled and twirled her dragon bone mask around her finger. A couple minutes later had her entering the dining room, grinning at three of her four companions. “Good morning, people. I take it Lana slept in? Good for her, she’s going to need the rest after all the talks with the Clerics coming up.” She sat down at the head of the table where her covered dish was set. “They’re going to need a lot of reassurance, and then there’re the noble parties to try and charm them out of funds for the Inquisition and the appropriate follow up meals and so on and so forth.”

 

“Talking about meals,” Varric said, pointing at his empty dish. “I don’t know how you Orlesians survive, but this would never fill a dwarf up.”

 

Ivy uncovered hers, noting the small handful of rice, the matching small handful of blanched greens and two small crayfish and several dips and chuckled at his put upon expression. “Ah. You are not used to an Orlesian day for a noble and ours will be busier than that. We will be compiling about two months of business that I hadn’t gotten through, what with being in Haven, into two weeks. That means we have at least ten meal meetings per day. Those we meet with have been very amenable to us and understand our rush to keep the people of Orlais and, they suppose, the rest of Thedas safe and will enjoy having aesthetically pleasing small meals with us. Our meetings will be in hour blocks.”

 

“This is possible?” Cassandra said in surprise. “In the Pentaghast meetings my family have had with Orlesians, they liked to lay back and lavish in the attentions upon them. They often stayed overnight if they could, deeming themselves that important.”

 

Ivy snickered and nodded. “True. That we can say we had Ser so-and-so around our place _all day?_ My! What could have happened? What did you speak of? And about whom? And to whom later will it be told? Because it’s always of someone and to someone! Such curiosity it provokes. Just think drama, and all question about Orlesian attitude you may have will be answered. So don’t worry Varric, you’ll get sick of eating quicker than you’ll get hungry on our schedule. You actually have this much as our first stop is the tailor’s and maskers. We will-” A wail interrupted her next few words. “Be properly meeting my most outrageous of the three under my patron once again. The other two are busy in other parts of Orlais.”

 

The door slammed open and an elf male was there, glistening silver hair long and braided over his shoulder to his waist, with the most delicate of looks and prettiest of ears and widest sky blues you’d ever see on a male of his kind. His looks were near on perfect and symmetrical and he truly was one of the most beautiful people they would ever meet.

 

“Milady Ivy!”

 

He was also the most dramatic, flopping over his patron and sobbing into her neck, satin shoulder of his dressing gown slipping down artfully.

 

For her part as the other three stared in their own states of disbelief or incredulousness, Ivy simply scooped up some rice on her spoon and ate quietly, waiting for him to feel he was adequately paid attention to, free hand on his shoulder and rubbing consolingly. She swallowed and then asked, “Dear, sweet, Phillipe! What is wrong?” Her voice changed completely to suit the tone but her face was bland.

 

“It was terrible! I was tricked! Deceived by my former lover! The one I considered the light of my life!”

 

“Wait, Phillipe, which one was that?” Ivy asked, thinking while looking up.     

 

Phillipe sat up and instantly affected a very conversational tone, crossing one leg over the other over her lap and picking up a stalk of asparagus. “Oh, you remember Julien?” He waved the vegetable and took a tiny bite of it.

 

The martial artists put her elbow on the arm of her chair and put chin in hand, fingers tapping at her lips rhythmically. “Was he the one with the lisp?”

 

“That was Martine. Very sensitive over his pottery works. But they were shambles, milady, _shambles._ ”

 

“Ah! The healer?”

 

“Non, non.”

 

“Uh… The Chantry priest?”

 

“Not so holy in bed, let me tell you, Milady.”

 

“You did. Repeatedly.”

 

“It was a good story!”

 

“True. I will never forget what you say he could do with his toes.” Ivy nodded with a naughty grin and then picked up and munched on the other asparagus stalk thoughtfully. “Hmm… Ah! I know! It was the painter!”

 

“Non, Milady! That was Jean-Claude! Oh but he was exquisite.” The dramatic elf sighed happily, putting hand to neck delicately and tilting his head a bit as he did so. Then he frowned a little, asking, “What did happen to him?”

 

“Wasn’t he the one skimming funds from the-?”

 

He slammed a hand on the chair arm. “-Theatre! Of course! That scoundrel! How did I ever forget?! I spit on his name!”

 

“I have no idea,” Ivy remarked wryly and shook her head, everyone all thinking the same as they stared – _you’ve too many loves of your life._ Carrying on, she inquired, “So what about Julien?”

 

“That cad! I try to impress and he does not appreciate!” Phillipe graceful ascended to sit on the table before Ivy, pushing her meal out the way. He put a lean leg on either side of her. “Look!” He opened his robin nest blue satin dressing gown up, completely naked under the dainty cloth, holding it out so he could have her look properly.

 

Solas watched stonily, completely still as he tightly gripped the cutlery in his hands, inwardly snarling.

 

Ivy stared at his face adamantly. “Please tell me you just had something rude shaved there.”

 

“Look at this disgrace! You must look at this repugnant thing!”

 

“Not very nice to-” Ivy reluctantly peered down at stared at his goods, squinting in disbelief. “Did you- Are those _runes_ on your _phallus?_ ”

 

Cassandra choked.

 

“Yes!”

 

“Huh.” She looked at the style of it, blinking at the decent sized cock for an elf, lither as they were than humans. “That’s actually quite artistic. I like that it goes up to the hip bones like that.”

 

Lana came in at the time, rubbing an eye sleepily and stopped, staring as her mouth dropped open at the sight of this gorgeous elf presenting himself to Ivy before the others at the table. “Am I still dreaming? I think I’m still dreaming.” She told herself, rubbing at both eyes before taking her hand away. “Is that _tattooed?_ ”

 

“Oh!” Phillipe jumped off the table and rushed over to her, cupping her cheeks. “Is this… _The Herald?_ ” He breathed, eyes wide and lips mere centimetres from hers.

 

“Y-Y-Y-Y-” Lana couldn’t think with this naked man holding her.

 

“She is,” Ivy said, pouring a mustard based sauce over her food and quickly eating it down.

 

He squeaked in happiness and nuzzled their noses together. “She is _so darling!_ Like a little _macaron!_ ”

 

“Phillipe, it and you are fine, but Lana may faint if she does not eat. Do you not have the final editing of costume of your next play to watch over at nine?”

 

Phillipe got the hint and bowed to Ivy’s back, uncaring of baring his beautiful form to the rest of them. “Of course, Milady! This one will astound you!”

 

The Scot gave him a grin over her shoulder. “We will be seeing the play in the next two weeks. I and my guests look forward to being astounded by your superb standard of work. Do make sure to give us great seats.”

 

Phillipe jumped up and down clapping and rushed away after another bow, in a tizzy over her words.

 

There was a pause of silence.

 

“Those really were runes,” Varric stated, a bit overwhelmed.

 

“You allow this sort of happening in your own home?” Cassandra demanded, scandalised.

 

Ivy nodded, beckoning Lana over to sit at her right and the girl absently did so, completely red-faced. “I need my entertainment. Anyway, Phillipe just wanted to show off. Not to mention a large performance of his is soon to be played he wants me and his guests to see. If word does not reach him about rumour that he had a wild night enough to get a tattoo on his penis, he will be most upset with me. He _loves_ hearing about himself. He will like you most, I think, looking so shocked like that, Cassandra. You’ll get him going.” She waggled her brows.

 

“ _Ugh._ ”

 

Varric held his hands up, laughingly saying, “Wait-wait-wait. Did he do that just because you were coming back? Is that what I’m picking up?”

 

“I would not be surprised, Master Tethras.” Solas acknowledged, disdainful. “People like that usually like such attention.”

 

Ivy smiled at them both, amused by each reaction and picking up her goblet and sipping. Wine in the morning, what a life. She hummed at the flavour, swirling the liquid around by the tips of her fingers on the top, chin leaning on fist as she thought on the flavour. “He wants to entertain me so I keep him under my patronage for his art. He really does do fantastic plays and there are others that would pay more than I do to have the pride and ability to flaunt him off to their companions, but he is elf and is happy I do not flaunt him like a pet due to his beauty and ear-shape and so stays with me. Plus he likes his room changed to suit his mood which would annoy other patrons. You’ve seen how quickly it changes, the mercurial brat.”

 

“Surprised he hasn’t tried with you, hunter.”

 

She sipped her drink. “He tries to flirt with me, but I do not touch those I keep on permanently. This wine is good. Light.” She had some more with a pleased little smile. Then she turned around and called out, “Mama Cook, order more of the wine in!”

 

“ _Yes, Lady V! Phillipe you have had your stipend of wine for this month! And it’s only the first week, you drunk-_ ” Her voice trailed off.

 

“Can I just pen your diary?” Varric asked, semi-seriously. “We’ll split profits fifty-fifty. I guarantee it’ll be a hit.”

 

“No can do, one of my other artistes is a writer. She’d strangle you in your sleep and then impale you on her horns and I wish I was joking when I said that. It happened to the last author that tried without either of our say so. The _stains_ in my favourite rug…” Ivy sighed as Lana finally began eating, wondering at the small amount. “You’ve five minutes to eat up and I’ll meet you all at the front. Don’t forget your masks.” She gave a little curtsey, tying on her own as she left, a member of staff instantly coming up to her and speaking in rapid Orlesian and handing her a chunk of letters and helping her with her coat as she went through them.

 

“I’m suddenly hoping not to meet the other patrons.”

 

Lana snorted. “I am.”

 

They stared at her.

 

“I said that out loud, didn’t I.”

 

“Yes,” Cassandra drawled, getting up. “I shall get my mask so I do not have to hear any more of this and leave you to your food.”

 

Chuckling, the two men joined her.

 

Lana put elbows on table and groaned into her hands.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I really don’t need you taking over when people are trying to get on my good side,” Lana hissed into her ear as the Tailor went to Varric next and several seamstresses were already busy putting the outfits together, chattering happily and excitedly about cuts for each of the five.

 

Ivy gave a polite smile her way, even as she was clenching her jaw. Her bluntness and reactive defence of her Dalish markings nearly had them kicked out of the place. “Yes, you really do, Lana. Even somewhere like here is cutthroat for our reputation, now _smile._ ”

 

Lana did, noticing the attention from a couple sharp-eyed seamstresses.

 

The hostess made her way to Solas just to get a break from easily-offended bull-headed teens and took him in. Whereas Varric would simply get a more expensive set of clothing in his preferred style – Varric Tethras and chest hair went hand in hand and it would be expected to have it on show – and Lana decided she would be wearing the dresses most ladies wore here, though in Ivy’s house colours of blue’s, oranges and whites and also cut to the knees, and Cassandra went for a feminine version of the men’s nobility clothing with the back coat down to her knees and flaring out prettily in a circular fashion and accents that showed her as more feminine, Solas’s style was a little different.

 

He would still have a tunic, but there was nothing under it and it was alike to the tight chested double breasted clean-white tops other male nobles affected. It showed off a pleasing neck and delectable hints of collarbone as the neck of the top was large and encircled just under his ears, flowing up with them to the back of his head. The sleeves were loose and elegant, trimmed in light orange satin. Pockets were looked down upon because if you were wealthy you would have lessers to hold items for you, and so slim tailored breeches went into high quality clean white elf like boots ‘inspired’ by the wraps and there were matching gloves. He also had a thick cloth wrapped around his waist and tied at the left hip, dangling with her house colours, mainly orange and its’ Kaltenzahn dragon head (made with actual dragon bone) surround by three gold thistles in a circle family crest was boldly at the base.

 

Naturally, everything was made from dyed dragon webbing supplied from her own provisions.

 

She couldn’t be seen in less and thus everything was made from it in her wardrobes.

 

Still.

 

A well-dressed Solas?

 

She circled him critically, slowly, knowing it’d fuel her dirty thoughts for quite a long time after this Val Royeaux time, arms crossed, side of her index finger to her lips.

 

Something wasn’t right.

 

She paused by him, staring at him in the mirror thoughtfully with a little frown and he curiously watched her look him over. She wasn’t sure. He seemed better in flowing clothing or that wolf pelt he wore. Completely hot as hell in Orlesian clothing, that was obvious. Still, she grabbed the sash, untying it from his waist and flinging it over one shoulder and then wrapped it around his waist, the sash ends now around his mid-thigh. She stepped back, only to grab the wolf pelt of his and pull it on him, the orange peeking out on either side of it and smiled at that. Solas himself looked a little more relaxed, absently touching the fur, and looked far better for it. “Passable. Seven sets in my colours for each of them. We shall possibly be back next week if your work is fully approved of by my companions.”

 

The seamstresses exhaled in relief as one before the tailor snapped at them in Orlesian and they went to work. The tailor bowed low, hands twirling multiple times. “Your patronage for the week is most appreciated.”

 

Ivy curtseyed back lightly and turned to her people. “Next we get our real masks that will have to have my style on them. Dragon bone of course. Then off to Marquise Louis, followed by…” She detailed their schedule out, letting ears hear so none of the potential benefactors could back out of at least the meal.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

Lana was exhausted by the time the last meal was over and even when she slumped in the carriage on the way back home did Ivy not give her a break, telling her to sit up.

 

“Any anger can be showed to me later when we get home,” Ivy responded calmly and gave her practised smile. “Outside, masks of all types are to be worn at all times.”

 

The Herald crossed her arms, stating, “We will not be in Val Royeaux forever.”

 

The Scot would have taken it as a threat… if it wasn’t said so petulantly. She cocked her head coquettishly and with a twinkle in her eyes, smilingly said, “Which is a shame for you, yes?”

 

“What? No-”

 

“Herald, you are entirely missing the point of what we are doing,” Cassandra stated at seeing Ivy sigh out silently and peer out the window. She had no time for The Game, but she did relish the excellent clothing that Ivy made sure was not dresses for her and the delectable food and the most colourful people they’d met that day. Lady Guillaume had been most intrigued by Varric’s chest-hair, and she’d smirked to herself at how uncomfortable Varric had been at how intensely the woman had been staring. “You are being taught good lessons in diplomacy here, dressed in fine fabrics and meeting influential people. Neither of us like the drama, but this is the capital of Orlais and we follow the Orlesian.”

 

“As we would follow the Nevarran in Nevarra City,” Ivy added, kissing at the Pentaghast who scoffed but nodded. “Though with lesser drama and fineries than here, it may be more suitable for you, Herald.”

 

Trying to get around a miniature The Game the Dragon Hunter fell into automatically, Varric spoke up from next to Ivy, “We _are_ headed back to base, right?”

 

Ivy grinned at him. “Oh no-no. We’ve a personal wine-tasting to go to.”

 

“So we can relax?”

 

Her grin went wicked. “Under the eye of the most famed Antivan grape grower in all Orlais, Lucas Dupois? Not in the slightest. He grows the grapes for Empress Celene’s favoured red vintage. Naturally it is highly secured and many well-connected nobles try to get it just for a sip to say they drink the same as the Empress Celene. We go there to try and get words along to the Empress of the Inquisition, make it seem bigger than it is. I saved his cousins life when he decided to go waltzing into a den of baby dragons. He is very amenable to meeting us. We are friends. Not just in the way of Orlesian’s either.”

 

“Not because you have a fondness for Antivan alcoholic beverages?” Solas spoke up as he looked from the passing Val Royeaux to the dragon hunter with a knowing half-smirk, enjoying her lips quirking up reluctantly, guilty. He smirked a little when she merely shrugged in reply, hands palm up. “Ah, an enjoyable side benefit, I see.”

 

Ivy laughed in delight as Lana’s eyes widened and she shifted uncomfortably. “Oooh, them side benefits!”

 

Varric raised his brows at the light playfulness in the apostate’s words. “Aw, is Chuckles teasing you, Hunter? How romantic.”

 

“Hey I just appreciate the authenticity of the teasing. And if your standard of romantic is teasing, then you must be out to marry everyone.”

 

“One big happy family,” He responded in kind, winking at her and chuckling when she kissed at him before saying, “Don’t do that, Chuckles will get _jealous_.”

 

Solas simply raised a brow. “Despite not being so when this morning happened?”

 

Varric had other thoughts on that; and it’d be staying in his mind lest the elf get his revenge at the worst of times.

 

“Was that _really_ this morning?” Lana said in wonder. “Feels like two days ago…”

 

“It has been an exceedingly busy day,” Ivy nodded in understanding and the forty two year old hunter stated, “You have done excellently on learning the Orlesian way, no matter how grudging. Here. Keep your energy up.” She handed over a pastry given to her for the group from a pretty box of them from the last noble they ate with and the elf took it gratefully.

 

“Well aren’t you mothering?” The dwarf snickered and mentioned, “Perhaps you should think twice about flirting with the hunter, Solas, she comes with baggage.”

 

“Hey!” Lana huffed at him.

 

Ivy waggled her brows at Solas, which shifted her mask. “But she’s _cute_ baggage.”

 

Solas nodded and smiled mockingly at Varric as he replied, “Projecting your fears on me, Master Tethras? I feel sorry for Bianca. Unlike you it seems, I would make an excellent father and look forward to the duty of caretaking of my own when the world is right and safe.”

 

Ivy’s eyes dropped to the elf’s chest, imagining him with a little son curled up in sleep on his lap and an arm around him to stop him from falling off, underneath the cloak he wore. ‘ _Holy shit, so freaking cute!_ ’ She had to look away to the outside world and clench her jaw to stop from squeaking at the adorable image. Her eyes caught a bowing stall owners own she particularly liked, David, and twiddled her fingers in hello at him, smiling when he hefted his daughter up on his hip and smiling wider still when little Annette waved exuberantly at ‘Milady dragon lady!’ and waved back happily. ‘ _Speaking of cute kids, ha.’_ She smiled to herself, leaning her chin on hand as they left Val Royeaux proper and went to the outer reaches of the capital to the vineyards. “We can relax now from outside eyes.”

 

Cassandra joined in then as she took her mask off for a moment so her face could breathe, “Don’t you know, Varric? Women find males good with children especially attractive.” She waved her face with the mask to fan herself, smirking.

 

“Alright, alright.”

 

“Never did get that, guys with babies’ thing,” Lana mused, nibbling happily on her cake.

 

Cassandra and Ivy looked at each other in amusement and remarked playfully in a slightly sing-song voice, “You will.”

 

It caused the two men to chuckle in understanding and nod ruefully, mature enough to want children of their own.

 

In turn making Lana realise how young she was compared to them all.

 

Her twenty compared to their, what?

 

Mid-thirties?

 

Forties in some cases?

 

There was light talk until they arrived as dusk set. It was a good two hours later that Cassandra sat next to Ivy when they were a decent ways from the other three in a private wine cellar with just Dupois, Varric keeping an eye on Lana and making sure she wasn’t drinking too much, too fast from her goblet and Solas focused on the vintner near a humungous vat as he explained his own personal process, asking the right questions and keeping the vintner very happy as a fellow enthusiast questioned him hard. “I saw that look earlier, Professor,” She murmured, wineglass in hand.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Your eyes flickered to the elf when we were talking about children.”

 

“Uh-” Her eyes widened, eyes on Solas but didn’t see any signs of him listening in.

 

Good.

 

“Do you wish for him and you to have children together?”

 

“Whoa-whoa-whoa. I thought he might look good with his child in his arms sleeping on him. It was a _too_ cute thought is all. It’s like I am finding myself looking for men to help in the rearing more and more instead of just some stud for the night. Clock is ticking, I guess? I just think he’d be good. He’s patient, morally upright, kind and will teach well. Good body and mind to pass down. Looks like he wants to be a papa as well. My mind just jumped to it.”

 

“Admittedly, I agree.” The two looked at him thoughtfully, only for him to feel the considering stares and turn to them when Varric was speaking to the vintner. He raised his brows at the pair of them and they smirked at him before looking at each other and laughing together. After a few seconds they grinned happily and he looked away, shaking his head in amusement, _maybe_ having heard them with his Elvhen hearing and _maybe_ having been pleased with what he’d heard. The Seeker then quietly added, “You are broody then?”

 

Eventually, Ivy gave in and nodded. “Yes, for a few years now.” Then she snickered and nudged the Seekers shoulder with her own, remarking teasingly, “You can be auntie Cassandra, and when I go off to be _naughty_ with my man, I shall call upon my dragon sister and put them on her and they will love their auntie who will read them Varric’s awful love poetry and teach them the art of the sword!”

 

“Ugh!” Cassandra grunted in disgust, dipping her fingertips into her glass and flicked some wine at her, but then a pleased smile played around her lips. She settled back into the chair, shoulder to shoulder with her fellow dragon lady and feeling a sense of sisterhood she’d long since properly had. “I will be honoured.”

 

Ivy squeezed her hand in thanks, smiling. “I feel like we are kin, Cassandra.”

 

“I… also feel this. It has been a long time.”

 

“I’m glad. I will tell the staff to always welcome you as they would me.”

 

“I am grateful, Ivy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra & Ivy is my jam. I should do an offshoot where Cassandra and Ivy go rescue fair maiden Varric in his castle on the demand he finishes the Swords and Shields but Ivy gets sidetracked with adoring the dragon guarding his princess and Cassandra gets sidetracked with punching bears in faces because clearly the dragon can't do its job right and bears have to take up the mantle. Then they find Hawke with Varric playing card games telling them there was a back entrance and thanks for distracting Varric and absconds off with the author out a conveniently placed balcony. Yeah.
> 
> Hee hee.
> 
> Poor Cassie x
> 
> 24/9


	10. Hands On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the 50+ bookmarks! Means a lot to me xx

 

 

**Chapter Ten**

 

  

 

“I must thank you for the clothing.”

 

Ivy looked up from the editing of her latest essay at Solas, having already written out a letter to the Chancellor to ask about making a book of her works to sell, because they did officially partly belong to the University. “You’re welcome. Do not think on it too much, Sol’, it’s expected as host of my standing to keep you well kept. They will know I am fond of you all to have you tailored in my dragon skins. Be happy I had you in block colours rather than the bombastic splurge of colour I like to don.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She smiled at him with amusement before dragging her eyes off him and re-inking her quill. “I hadn’t realised you were a fan of red wines. If you wish, nearer the end of the two weeks when I can trust that Lana is aware of what she speaks to who and at what time - and the same for what she doesn’t – you and I can visit the vineyards once more. Lucas seemed quite fond of you, and he did say he would have a fresh vintage prepared by then.” She went to her work, hoping he would say yes to her offer of just them, which would send a strong message out to Orlais that she was courting if she took him somewhere as classy as that.

 

Solas’s first instinct was to say yes, but then recalled what he was going to do.

 

_Give her body attention and satisfaction, but do not play with her heart._

_Or his own at that._

 

Stars he adored the easiness between them, the playful camaraderie and the heated looks.

 

But it was not for him to greedily take, to selfishly covet her for himself when he planned to snap the Veil in two and ruin her life.

 

He would protect her from him while damning himself in punishment of creating the Veil and tearing it down again.

 

He could not hurt another of his People.

 

He could not let her think of a future of them, not when he too found the thought of her full with his child enticing and would more than enjoy making it happen right then and there.

 

“I must decline.”

 

Ivy felt a flicker of confusion and a smack of hurt at the rejection, body aching for his touch now he was around and they were alone. “Ma nuvenin,” She softly replied absently having a flashback back to the Dalish camp, constantly rejected when offering something.

 

That was her go to reply after a while.

 

It _hurt_ to say it.

 

Ma nuvenin.

 

She hated that fucking sentence.

 

“If you wish to go at any time by yourself, I shall set up a meeting for you with Dupois. He rather liked you,” She remarked with a well faked smile and then edited another sentence for better flow. She’d long since learnt to control her emotions in the presence of Orlesian nobility to gain advantage over them. It served her well here. “Perhaps take Varric with you.”

 

He relaxed at the lack of hurt in her voice and sat down in a chair next to a lit fireplace. Perhaps she did not feel this happenstance between them like he did, despite him knowing she was one of his People. It would make things easier for him to know she did not hurt as he would. It was easier to bear for him then. “Ma serannas. That is most kind of you. You know more Elvhen than I expected to hear from you.”

 

She stopped her sentence structuring at the sudden relieving change of topic to reply in a bland tone, “I had lived with the Dalish,” and began again.

 

He caught that, understanding she did not like much speaking of them but had to say, “Most Dalish I spoke with had lost a great deal of the language, and the beauty of it.” His words were tinged with the slightest hint of distaste.

 

She caught that, also agreeing with that distaste, stomach churning at the crude way the Dalish lived now. “This is true, but considering they spoke mostly in Dalish when I was around to insult me or exclude me, I learnt to pick up much more than was common to understand what I was doing to offend them. I only really like using it with Lealos. He has been the only one to react to it that is kind to me.” She didn’t want to speak of it anymore and she looked over at him from her work. “You weren’t too bored today, were you?”

 

Bored? It had been so close to what he’d previously used to live before wars happened that he couldn’t wait for the next day to arrive, to watch as Ivy worked, to add in his own advice and two coppers and see it work well. Indeed, the group, to the end of it, began to throw ideas to each other when Ivy gave them the low-down on the next meeting on how to manipulate each noble they visited. The next two weeks were sure to sharpen his mind with the ways people now worked and what they desired in terms of items, though people themselves hadn’t much changed. “On the contrary, I enjoyed it a great deal as I believe I will the next two weeks,” Solas smiled and she nodded, satisfied, turning back around to whatever she was working on. Not really wanting to, he neverthless inquired of her, “Shall I leave you alone to work?”

 

“I need to finish this as we go to the University tomorrow afternoon for most of the day, yes, but you are welcome to my collection over yonder.” She waved at the full bookshelf without looking at it. “There’s one on arts at the bottom that has a good section on elven art in particular. Be amused or offended or impressed at your own risk,” She joked.

 

Solas found himself a bit disappointed. He’d wanted to talk with her, communicate, debate things with her of the day. He had interrupted her personal time however, having excused herself from them when they’d arrived back home from the wine-tasting, offering them the games room and company with her artistes who were intrigued by the newcomers and had come back to chat and play games specifically with them. He shouldn’t have expected she would _want_ to put everything down to simply talk with him when they’d both already been there and she still had much to do. This was not Arlathan, she did not have the time to do all she did and stay healthy. “Perhaps I shall?”

 

“At your own risk,” Ivy repeated cheerfully with a chuckle after. It was over an hour later that the Scot cracked her back and stood up, stretching upwards. “I’m going to bed. Join me?”

 

He’d been waiting for her attention, placing the book down quickly. “I will.”

 

Ivy smiled to herself when he came over and held her to him, roughly kissing her and sighing against her lips, almost like in relief, when she joined in with enthusiasm.

 

So he was eager for that?

 

She understood now. Should have understood since the first time he helped her off Lealos. He was a lone wandering mage elf – how much intimacy would he really get with his dislike of the Dalish and others dislike of elves and mages? Yet, he was smart, wanted no strings, and talented with his hands…

 

It’d hurt her because she thought their relationship was budding, but, but she _could_ make it just sex.

 

That was fine.

 

His hands traced down her body and making her shiver, feeling the smirk against her lips and humming a little.

 

It was fine.

 

His kisses were drugging as he pulled her on top of him on the bed, groaning into her mouth at the feel of her curves on him and in his hands.

 

It was… fine.

 

His fingers slowly worshipped her body, gently unrobing her.

 

Shit.

 

 

* * *

  

 

* * *

 

 

“We’re going to see the bears today?”

 

“That we are dear, author.”

 

“I _need_ to work this into my books somehow.”

 

“Lady Bear has been looking forward to you, Varric!”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, didn’t you get the memo? She likes hairy ones.”

 

“Oh, ha _haaa_.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ivy panted as he licked up her slit, hands clenching hips to stop her moving so much, wanting to join in with enthusiasm. Her hands gripped onto the plush headboard behind her, overheated and sweating. He sucked powerfully and made her groan low in her throat as she jerked but he clutched her so tightly she couldn’t move, could barely think and his tongue pressed her clit hard with each strong flick. “Faster, p-p-please-” She wanted quicker, but he wouldn’t allow it, chuckling and staying at the same speed and stroke power. She gave a little whimper, feeling it slowly build and hated and loved it and wanted more and wanted it over.

 

He hummed, making her legs quiver strongly and he groaned as he tasted more of her slick come out, gripping her thighs hard.

 

“Solaaas, p-please! Need you in me,” She panted out, feeling it still build up slowly, and the slow but powerful force mounting and had her whimpering, sensitive and needy. She reached for him. “Sola-”

 

“Hand back on the board.”

 

Her hand snapped back at the demand, white-knuckled on it instantly, eyes wide and focused on him intently looking at her from between her thighs with a warning in that stare.

 

Just how he liked this.

 

Her attention only on him, thinking only of him, wet because of him. His own satisfaction and want rose because of it, needing this commanding and absolute attention from her. He leant his cheek on her thigh, tasting her with each inhale, craving more with each second he was presented with her red, swollen lips before him to eat and his magic pounded around him, joyous at the coupling, wanting to link his magic with her magic. He licked at her, smirking when she jerked at it, her breathing hitching, but calming down. That wouldn’t do. He went for her, sucking hard and strong, fingers delving into her and the keening noise coming from her lips made his ears twitch alertly, wanting more and breathing out haggardly as she slicked out more of her addictive nectar for him.

 

He didn’t go quickly, just deeply and strongly, wanting her to know he was taking his time with her because she deserved this worship that ancient Elvhen did.

 

Her sighs and moans had his mind fuzzing over with need and forgetting the world but for them.

 

He took his time once more, slurping at his fingers every few pumps and sighing at his most favourite flavour in the world being on his tongue, over his mouth and chin and immensely proud at doing this to her.

 

Ivy was a trembling wreck by then. He was going agonizingly slowly, as if she wasn’t going nuts over here. Her mouth was filling with saliva and she had to swallow repeatedly. She’d already come twice like this, and her ultra-sensitivity had her buzzing and shifting, because too-much and being healed by magic on his tongue to curb the pain was becoming building-up once more and she couldn’t stop her body constantly quivering. Her walls were clenching on his finger and she wanted to bite on the back of her hand, dig teeth into something.

 

“Can’t- Need you in- please- empty.”

 

He ignored her, not quickening his pace and with the last of her will and mental fortitude, flipped him around so she was on top.

 

Solas widened his eyes at her glowering down at him.

 

“I’m… going to asphyxiate you… with my goddamned pussy... for not filling me up. _Arsehole._ ”

 

The elf smirked in delight. “A wonderful way to die.” He grunted as she ground down and he swiftly reinserted his fingers, sucking at her clit and grunting his approval when mere moments later she came hard over his mouth. His eyes rolled at the flavour pouring onto his tongue, pumping faster to continue this. She jerked above him from over-sensitivity, whimpering as he licked every drop he could and it wasn’t enough. “More.” He growled, tongue lathing her clit with healing, grasping her hips and shoving her down to his cock, impaling her easily. He wanted to see her wrecked, drooling, exhausted from the pleasure he’d bring her.

 

She cried out into the room as he thrust hard and long up into her.

 

“You forgot to keep those hands on the headboard, Ivy,” He whispered darkly and she gasped, making him chuckle lowly as he ground up into her, pulling her hips to an angle until she ground at him finding that one spot, “How about a little reminder of why we should listen to those in control?” He asked, thrusting hard against it and making her head fall back, neck available to his greedy mouth that bit into it to mark it possessively.

 

She keened into the pillow loudly when part of him hit a nice point in her from the movement, gaining his attention and an instant memory of it. He began to thrust hard and fast and listening for the best angle, quickly finding it as she grabbed a pillow and made those loud amazing sounds that told him he got it right. He ripped the pillow from her mouth suddenly biting into it. “Fuck! Oh its feels-gah!”

 

“Do not grab the pillow.” Solas narrowed his eyes at her with a little smirk, focusing on driving the woman wild beneath him like he had done in so many fantasies over the nights. “You will not hide from me.” He stretched out her legs wider to make a point, tiling her hips up a little more so he could drive in deeper, bringing about louder sounds so pretty to his ears he _loved it_. He kept his balance as he watched her bite her knuckles in return for being so loud and then gripped both her wrists in one hand, holding then over her head. “You will not hold back your sounds. Let them all know who mates you so well!” He slammed into her faster then, to literally drill it in.

 

He then fondled her clit with unrelenting speed and making her cry out as her pussy spasmed around him. His Elvhen speed kicked in and suddenly he was ploughing into her faster than ever, her long drawn out yell of pleasure jittering with each thrust into her before she was coming hard, practically seeing stars but he didn’t stop, only going faster at the blinding pleasure he felt through their shared heat. Within a minute of this mindless fucking she was coming again, louder and he joined her with a snarling growl, mouth widening and biting fiercely down into the junction of her neck, leaving four fang marks.

 

He was not done. A flare of healing and they were fresh once more and his hip snapped into the wonderful arse of hers, making her yelp and then whimper into the pillow before he grasped her wrists and tugged them behind her. He leant forward when she kept them there, sleeking a hand up her chest to gently grasp her neck and waited. A pause and a slight nod and he then gripped lightly, holding onto the headboard and fucking into her welcoming heat and enjoying the vibrations of her noises in her throat. He lost his mind a little at the complete power over her, mouth watering at the submission of this powerful dragon hunter and his magic buzzing at its' mate so near.

 

Ivy wanted to change position, to take control, and oh she got a change of position alright. She gasped as suddenly he was against the headboard, she was facing away from him, her arm were cross behind her head with one hand holding her wrists in place and his thighs were parting hers wide and he was fucking up into her, practically strumming her clit as he hit that little area into her with the canny dick of his. Her body tightened and clenched as he ravenously bit up her neck and she yelped as he slapped her clit and growled behind her. She shrieked in pleasure at the orgasm hit her, burning through her body and making her see stars, head falling back only for her lips to get captured. She kissed back mindlessly, sloppy and full of tongue and teeth as he continued to thrust and play with her clit. "T-Too much."

 

"You can take it. Come for me, Ivy. Let me hear you again. I need to hear you, inansha'uhd."

 

Tears prickling her eyes, she couldn't believe it when the flare of lust slashed through her once more and the build-up began so swiftly that she was caught off guard when the next orgasm slammed out of nowhere and she could only make a hoarse long keening sound and clamped down hard on the cock her pussy wanetd to keep inside her.

 

Solas cursed and blessed in one Elvhen sentence as she milked him dry, fluttering pussy making his mind blank as he slumped on top of her for the moment before rolling to her side and dragging her close. His heart was still pounding and his magic was desperate to connect with hers but he held it back and instead kissed her temple gently to keep his mind entertained from the need of his magic.

 

They’d finally had time to enjoy each other, and by the creators was it worth it.

 

Solas nuzzled the back on her neck, delighting in his scent and seed all over her and relished her being his in that moment, tugging her close.

 

 

* * *

  

 

* * *

 

  

The next two weeks flew, with Lana getting more and more learned in the ways of Orlesian’s and their group forming deeper bonds. The first couple days were tiring with her, the stubborn Dalish forever wanting to dig her heels in, but when Ivy took her to the side in the second University trip when in the women’s toilets – _and Maker bless the plumbing, something that, oddly, all but Lana had commented on. Something Ivy had put that down to a previous use somehow_ – and asked her to compare her blunt way and Ivy’s Orlesian way just one time and see for herself, she actually tried it.

 

And found that the Orlesian’s did respond to her confidence, just in a tricky and dramatic way. She’d even begun to put a bit of flair to her actions, hands sweeping with just that little more fluidity and decoration and natural elvish grace becoming just that touch sleeker. It worked a treat, eyes on her and being listened to more and confidence rocketing. Ivy was pleased, and suddenly the Inquisition gained that bit more notoriety that it wasn’t just their Godslayer amusing herself. The Herald and her companions were worth something. The dragon hunter metaphorically stepped back after the first week, accepting that her standing would go down after letting another have power over her.

 

To her surprise, it didn’t stop fellow Nobles still seeking her attention.

 

Quite the opposite in fact.

 

Both lesser and greater Nobles felt she was more accessible and the woman gained and returned favours unseen by the others in her party. When she went out by herself a few times, she was drawn into miniature business meetings in café’s and shops. She had to write many more letters, but that was time at home and time at home meant that she focused a tad more on her friendships with the other three one on one, making sure to learn everything they liked and disliked. They’d spent many an evening together after their long days, enjoying some wine or brandy, masks off and laughing and telling stories as Ivy worked. Solas would always kindly heal her aching wrist for her, never slacking in looking after her body, whether she herself made it ache or if he made her ache at nights. He always healed her, no matter how reluctantly he did of her bitemarks he’d laid on her.

 

Midweek they’d gained an ally in a Red Jenny named Sera. She was a ‘ _stick it to the big man_ ’ type of person that liked pranks but that didn’t bother Ivy. What _did_ bother was her very black and white view of the world. Little people this, bad guys that – it left a bad taste on her Orlesian trained tongue. She was moralistic and a wildcard and crazy. Ivy simply didn’t think they’d get on too closely outside of funny stories and drinking at the pub. Very light-hearted stuff only.

 

Sure, not everything had to be serious, but in her closest friendships, she _liked_ knowing serious could be there.

 

Sera’s respect seemed easily given and taken away, like a petulant child not getting what they want.

 

She was young, Ivy knew, just a teen and it was understandable.

 

Their Dalish Herald seemed to really like her however, and the two got on like a house on fire, so for the foreseeable future they’d just have to play nice or support each other from a distance. The two elf ladies spent a lot of time giggling over things when back in her manor at nights. At least Mama Cook kept them in line when Sera looked ready to prank them, not taking crap from no kids.

 

She’d shared a knowing, exasperated look with Solas that night they’d picked the skilled archer up, both of them on the same wavelength with their thoughts on Sera and knowing exactly how this would go down after stealing breeches instead of weapons.

 

Hopefully her skills outranked her abrasive personality.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the smut ;) Tell me what you think about it! Or what you'd like to see in regards to that. Intermittent sex will happen throughout the fic from now on. Heads up on that x


	11. A Long Time Coming

 

**Chapter Eleven**

 

 

Solas grunted when she licked another slick hot trail up his shaft, the hand holding his cock teasingly, rubbing and playing with him lightly as her mouth did. His hissed at the feel of her teasing, slick mouth finally covering his dick and licking little butterfly flicks at his head and her other hand came into play by roughly rubbing at his balls in the way he adored, juggling his testes with wave formation fingers and by the stars he was already building to an orgasm. She just kept going, focused and determined on him reaching his end.

 

Then she hummed loudly and ducked down fully, working her hands fast and hard as she took him down in one movement.

 

He wasn’t lying back now on the bed now, grabbing her hair and groaning and gasping as his thighs quivered and then- He grunted hard and his hips jerked and he shuddered and shook at the powerful and fast coming.

 

Ivy ignored him, licking and sucking at the shaft and groaning in delight at his heady flavour, closing her eyes as squirt after squirt flooded her mouth and she hummed, gulping it down fast.

 

Had she ever enjoyed a dick so much as she had this one?

 

Damn.

 

She wanted more.

 

He fell back again. “Ivy-Ngh!” Two fingers had shoved themselves into his mouth, wetted with her slick and he groaned, sucking them clean with need and with amazement he could already feel himself hardening in her mouth once more without his magic to help them along.

 

How?

 

How was that possi-?

 

Her wetness had him so eager so soon, despite elf refractory period being shorter anyway?

 

She began sucking light, flicking her tongue over it with pleasure, and then switched between that and sucking hard enough to hollow out her mouth and repeatedly flick the tip of her tongue over it swiftly. She grasped his hands, crossing them over his lower waist with her own, running her tongue over the head and swirling around and around and around. He panted and her eyes opened and focused on his own, blue on blue, icy storms against bright lightning. He made an odd sound in his throat at the heat and hunger in her eyes. She held up his cock with her lips and murmured, “I understand why you don’t let me go without coming by your mouth at least once.”

 

“I-Ivy.”

 

“I want your come.” Her statement was followed up by her going to town on him, head bobbing fast, fingers clenching over his own that clenched right on back before dragging one hand away and playing with his balls again making him gasp louder and his hips stutter back into play.

 

He bowed over her, cuddling her head to him as he felt himself pulse in want, that build-up forcing itself through him, thighs quivering. He repeatedly kissed her hair, wanting to plough into her with his cock. “Let me in you. I want to fill you with my essence, need to-Ngh!” He grunted as she sucked harder, teeth scraping, and within seconds of this higher intensity on his sensitive cock he came into her mouth again with a groaning moan and his thighs bunching up strongly several times.

 

“You taste so addictive, Solas.”

 

He pulled her back with him on the bed, cuddling her close and breathing hard, burying his hands in her hair and kissing her deeply after a moment. He didn’t care about the taste of his seed in his mouth, needing her other flavour, rolling onto his back and draping her over him to have her weight keep him grounded and alive in this moment. He parted, head flopping back and clutching her closer to him. “Ivy,” He sighed out, one hand delving into her locks to hold her head to him while the other went around her waist.

 

“Hm?”

 

“IvyIvyIvy,” He mumbled, smelling her, feeling her, tasting her, going mad on her surrounding and overwhelming and centering him.

 

She grinned victoriously, snuggling into his lithe body, feeling so comfortable. “Yeah. Me too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next new member for the Inquisition was a woman Ivy knew and also got on with – but again only to a point. If Sera was frivolity incarnate, then Vivienne was schemer incarnate. She liked power and prestige and had no problem stepping over cadavers to get it. She was beautiful and used it, enjoying every privilege she could get. She’d worked in the Circle of Magi and was Enchantress in Celene’s Court. She was excellent at The Game and constantly at it, which, to Ivy, meant she couldn’t relax even in her own house. Sharp words hidden under pleasantries at all times. Always searching for weaknesses.

 

The only time Ivy had seemed to come out on top and completely outrank Vivienne in was when they were in her Dragon Collection wing. In the presence of dragons, her shoulders set back, her chin lowered and her eyes widened to take in all movement, a reactive thing to take note of and watch dragons warily, intently. It gained attention because it challenged – and a dragon’s utter attention on her rather than her shaking soldiers kept them alive longer. She simply hadn’t realised she affected that position elsewhere when they were before her, dead or not.

 

Vivienne had, stilling her for a split-second, and that small moment of making her doubt her own power over everyone made her double her efforts to do so over Ivy.

 

Something Ivy _had_ picked up and grimaced to herself at when alone and musing over her two new companions.

 

They were _draining_.

 

Hands rubbed her shoulders and neck in a firm massage.

 

She must have been stretching her neck out too much.

 

Her head flopped back against his stomach.

 

“You were lost in thought.”

 

Solas looked down at her softly, slight concern on his visage.

 

“Sorry, I know we were talking about our last night tomorrow and the University’s new exhibition. Just… The Game and those who play it.”

 

“Ill-suited you said. Yes, I recall. Madame de Fer I take it?” A nod had him humming. “Remember, iron is beyond brittle to one who is a God.”

 

She hummed, closing her eyes at the massage. “God _slayer_ if you must use that nickname – I still have my weaknesses, and iron can cut me down as any other element could.”

 

His hands grasped her shoulders, giving comfort by now gently rubbing his thumbs up and down her skin. “Title, I would prefer to have you think of it as, not a nickname.” She reached up and he put his cheek into her hand, relishing in the warmth of her skin as he smiled and kissed the pad of her thumb as she ran it over his lower lip. Ivy immediately thought back to the nights of the two weeks as his tongue licked at the digit. Twelve of which she’d finally gotten to enjoy the elf male, kept up most of the night and ravaged and kissed all over the room.

 

Her lips quirked up at the thought. “Hm, yes.”

 

His lips parted at the humming lowness of her voice, feeling lust coil in him. “She may strike at you with iron, but she will never be able to defeat you. To do so would be political suicide.”

 

“And yet she repeatedly cuts herself,” Ivy chuckled up at him, eyes bright and affectionate on his soft ones as he chuckled and reached down to kiss her when she offered her lips up, only for them to hear steps rushing and squeaks. The pair grabbed their weapons quickly always in easy reach from previous experiences, but it was an urgent knocking and Mama’s voice come through that had them relaxing minutely. “Come in, Mama!” The older woman did, speaking a thousand words a minute in Orlesian, but Ivy gawked at her when she understood. “Are you _joking?!_ The Empress is here? Now? _Not_ Halamshiral?”

 

“Yes, Milady! Our house scouts picked up that the Empress was in the area, but it surprised us when she came here. Madame Vivienne is entertaining her!”

 

“Of course she is,” Ivy drawled, placing her blade down. “Mama, make sure my arrived artistes aren’t falling over themselves like a bunch of headless chickens and offer the use of the kitchen to her staff.”

 

“Yes, Milady!”

 

Ivy swiftly changed into a light blue house dress that on a fancy, she’d had the trim of it inlaid with dragon bone pieces on top and metal underneath to protect the bits from stabbing her. It had the dual purpose of protecting her weaker points like her neck and wrists and keeping her warm and was skin tight with extra padding around her breasts to raise and plump them seductively until it flared at her hips and swished around her knees. There was a cluster of dragon bones on her upper back and around the neck, pointing up, were dragon fingers from wings, daring those to try for her neck. Simple stockings and smalls were underneath, though she needed no bra as the dress was tight enough to hold her down. She could even fight in it happily.

 

It was for impressive and fearsome guests.

 

Perfect for an Empress.

 

The dress itself was Hivernal dragon webbing and so clearly dragon that no one had yet dared to tell her the bright colour was as gauche as a bared face.

 

At least her dancers’ slippers would get no lip from anyone.

 

Her mind was occupied about this new guest. It had been some months since Empress Celene had come out of hiding, but she’d mostly remained in Halamshiral. There’d been all sorts of rumours about her and her cousin Gaspard trying to off her, but that family had been trying to off each other for decades anyway so it was no surprise. Plus they were warring with each other. They’d been trying to murder each other off this whole time. It didn’t much affect the people other than who they couldn’t sell or buy to. Ivy had half-forgotten there was a civil war going on with how _little_ anyone spoke of it while she was in Val Royeaux.

 

Ivy wrapped a large orange scarf belt around her waist and flowed down the front of her skirt, embellished with her house colours and her own clan insignia of a golden dragon head, Kaltenzahn of course, with three cotton thistles in a circle around it. Naturally she grabbed her mask and tugged it on, fluffing her hair over the back of it and put a slick of rouge over her lips, making sure to line it up so it looked like she was ever slightly smirking.

 

Solas was waiting for her at the door, snapping his book closed when he saw her draw near and looked at her clothing in fascination. “Remarkable. How did you get the hide in such excellent condition?” His eyes lingered on her breasts and hips for an extra second.

 

It made her smirk, running hands down the bodice of it and his eyes helplessly followed. “I know a good blacksmith that did this. It’s more for show rather than protection, though it does that well, too. But dragon bone hurts to roll on.”

 

“I can believe that,” He chuckled at her cute little frown and was absently tempted to hold out his arm for her to take it. In his time, going to court to see one of the Evanuris with her like this would have prompted him to guard her at all times and keep her near his body for full protection as such garments would draw much attention, hand possessively on her furthest hip as a sign to others to _stay away from the Dread Wolf’s woman_ -

 

“Plus I didn’t want to just throw away spare dragon bone. Well, let’s go see my Empress.”

 

“Lead the way, Lady Godslayer.”

 

He would certainly enjoy seeing her behind sway in this incredible piece.

 

It was a minute that Ivy entered the now guarded room and the four guards on each side of the room bowed at her before the two closest opened her doors. It seemed there was some sort of position for introducer, because, “Presenting the Godslayer, The Defeater of One Hundred Dragons, The Honoured Professor Ivy of the University of Orlais!” was called loudly as she entered followed by, “And her companion, Fade and Spirits Expert Solas!”

 

Ivy’s lips quirked up in a grin as she laughingly teased, “It’s certainly a first to be heralded in my own house, Your Majesty! Thank you for the memory.” She curtseyed low, hands twirling.

 

Empress Celene smiled and stood up, curtseying back, which made Vivienne widened her eyes before remembering herself and taking on calm prestige once more as she and the artistes followed suit but much lower. “You are most welcome.”

 

Ivy rose after Celene did. “Have you been offered refreshments, Your Majesty? I do hope those under my wing have been most gracious guests?” She especially drew an eye over her artistes that were practically vibrating in excitement, amused.

 

Celene waved a hand over the plates of delights and fresh squeezed orange juice while the other hand stayed up in front of her and then the other joined it once more. It was surprisingly partly eaten. Usually food was an expected attention piece rather than actual sustenance. The attempt at poisoning was almost a courtesy. “Indeed so.”

 

“Ah, good! And my people’s company was also satisfactory?” She eyed the artistes, who sat up even taller.

 

The Empress smiled at that. “I have been most entertained by your companions, Godslayer. You are in worthy company. You step with the Inquisition. I have heard all from them and am pleased some of our greatest wish to stop this Breach. We will be keeping a personal eye on this development and wish you our luck.”

 

Ivy strongly stated, “Naturally we will risk our lives for the Country to see this calamitous affair through to the end.”

 

“It will bring us comfort to know we have your luck,” Vivienne replied softly, the pair of them curtseying again to the Empress.

 

“We have been following your steps for some time, admiring your travels and deeds the world over, and all in the name of Orlais and her University. We are honoured by this, for even when this civil war sparks on, there is one constant that both sides agree upon. The Godslayer is making Orlais internationally significantly respected again, a more enviable country than before.”

 

“As it should be, Val Royeaux superior as it is,” Ivy smiled playfully as she rose. “It began of course, due to your allowing of more than just nobles into the University. If not for Professor Frederic, I would not be here. Thinking of it, now you’re here, I can actually thank you in person for that. I myself have sponsored some great minds into the University that would otherwise have been pushed aside due to poorness and heritage, inclusive of my three artistes here, now renowned for their works. Education will progress our people to greater heights.” Ivy nodded, entirely believing in what she was saying. “It has been to Orlais’ loss that it took until Your Majesty to change this. Thank you for changing this. Future Orlais is blessed.”

 

Celene smiled at that, eye softening a touch. “It is good to know your respect of intelligence and potential. There are titles in other lands, such as Kirkwall that honour their best.” She waved a hand at Varric, who looked rather bemused at being thought of as being what Kirkwall represents but going with it. “Seven years since the first high dragon we heard of you slaying, and, now, we wish to Title you First Champion of Orlais, The Godslayer of Val Royeaux. We apologize it has taken this long.” She held out a hand and the man who announced them in bustled over with a letter and a pretty box. “Do you accept?”

 

Ivy blinked and nodded slowly, stunned. “I accept.”

 

“We are pleased.” She held a letter out. “Here. Proof of your courtly status above all but myself and the Heir and you will be styled Your Excellency. There is another in the Council and at the Winter Palace. Your insignia on a necklace.” She took it out of its velvet-lined box and beckoned Ivy forth. Ivy stopped in front of her and bowed forward, allowing the expensive piece to go over her head. “There. Rise, Your Excellency.”

 

Ivy did. “I am… speechless, Your Majesty.”

 

“It is quite alright. I have but one more piece to speak to you of. If we may speak in private before your impressive collection?”

 

“Yes, of course.” The newly made Champion nodded, guiding the way. A small group of guards followed and Ivy opened the doors to her collection open and bowed Celene in, following and closing the doors after. She turned to her collection and with a wave of her hand, she spoke in delight, “My wondrous dragons!”

 

“May you enthral me with a tale or two first, Your Excellency?”

 

“Certainly, Your Majesty! Dragons are my favourite topic.” Ivy winked and steered her over to a smaller drake skeleton in full. She began to tell a couple tales, and before she knew it, they’d been in the for a good hour, with a highly-entertained Empress reading over an essay that Ivy told her the background story of with a painting of cute baby Abyssal dragons above it. “It is good they’ve come back in the Western Approach. They are particularly fond of the varghest and quillbacks that have become overpopulated and a significant problem to some important surface dwarf merchant groups that supply our Chantry with lyrium and rarer metals.”

 

“I have heard Professor Frederic is there.”

 

“Yes, from my last letters he has been documenting their hunting habits to ascertain if we should allow it to continue and watch from afar and allow its offspring and drakes to populate which could later pose a threat, or to recommend it be killed off. However, this does continue the overpopulation of vicious creatures and more immediate trading problems. Orlais would be end up eventually having to front expedition costs for this, but then that would mean an overload of products from these animals which are quite expensive right now.”

 

Celene nodded thoughtfully. “Which would affect both the ecosystem and the economy of Orlais. Hm. Allow a High Dragon to go relatively unchecked, or have a dip in the market that could send us into depression? I believe I would hand this over to you to solve.”

 

Ivy raised a brow as her lips twitched. “Your Majesty, you’ll upset my senior Professors of Draconology!”

 

“I am sure they will survive.”

 

The hunter snickered as Celene chuckled with her.

 

“I wish to present an offer to you, that, hesitantly, my cousin has also been considering with greater confidence since I brought it up a month ago. I was unsure, but with this time here with you, I am reassured by your prowess and your fortitude. Indeed,” Celene mentioned as if absently, telling Ivy it was the main reason she was even here, looking around in admiration, “How could I not be, standing here in halls that echo with your glory and triumph?”

 

Ivy cocked her head. “Your Majesty?”

 

“If you accept, I will abdicate the throne in five years, becoming Grand Advisor to Gaspard… And yourself as Your Highness, Emperor Consort, if you agree to marriage with him for we need an heir I am unable to grant myself.” The Empress smiled at her gobsmacked look and handed over the essay she was holding. “Think it over. I will await your answer after you have finished helping the Inquisition close the Breach. No later than a month it has been gone. Please, think of Orlais. I shall keep my silence on this matter now. I bid you good night, Your Excellency.”

 

“Good night, Your Majesty.” Ivy stared at the essay in disbelief, absently nodding at the squeeze to her shoulder as the Empress left.

 

_What._

_The fuck._

_Just happened?_

 

She stared up at the ceiling, grasping the essay to her.

 

The Herald came in, along with Vivienne and Solas.

 

“Hey, Your Excellency?” Lana said cheekily, but Ivy only looked at her with stunned eyes. “You… okay in there?”

 

“Ah. Yes. I just had news that astonished me is all.”

 

“What?” Lana went on. “Even my super-sensitive ears couldn’t hear from rooms over.”

 

Ivy gently put the essay back, frowning in thought. “I do not wish to say right now. I still need to wrap my head around it.”

 

“Do you require anything?” Solas asked, knowing he could get the information out of her because she would want to talk of it sooner or later and he liked to think she trusted him.

 

“No. Well. Yes. We all leave tomorrow to be at Haven by the evening. I will be leaving now.” She rubbed her temple, thinking of what she needed now and letters to be sent to some of her businesses that were blooming. “I am not in a state to fully protect myself, so if you would care to join me Solas, I would be very thankful.”

 

He came up to her side and held an elbow out. “Of course. Excuse us, ladies,” He mentioned politely when Ivy took it, placing a hand over hers, “We shall see you in Haven.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm, I wonder what you think about this new development? Thanks for all the Kudos and Views! Really glad so many of you are enjoying the fic!


	12. Duty First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for checking the fic out guys, been awesome seeing how many have been hitting this up x

 

 

**Chapter Twelve**

 

 

 

Why?

 

Why would the Empress offer that?

 

Ivy had a scowl on her face as Lealos pounded his way around the Hinterlands with a contingent of soldiers on horses from Horse Master Dennet.

 

Her mind whirled.

 

Yes, The Godslayer was who she was. Who she appeared to be – like the stories one read to children as they slept, how one of lesser birth rose the ranks and protected their world from the evils in it. But even giving over the Title alone would have the woman tied to the court and kept her loyal. She’d never wanted to see Orlais fall into ruin, after all, a home lost.

 

**_Again._ **

 

For the _third bloody-_

 

Her mind focused and the slightest of movements had Lealos dodging the bolt of lightning. He shrieked in anger, freezing the enemy rebel mages at the horrifying sound, and charged. They raised staffs but were far too late, with Lealos skewering two mages on his antlers and flinging them to the side and Ivy leaping from the soft saddle to do the same with her blades into the next two enemies' throats when they aimed for her ferocious mount. They turned on her, but Lealos was already on the next, stomping him down and Ivy took the last three with swift cuts to their unprotected parts. she looked around, watching the rest of her group easily take care of the next number of them and grinned to herself at a job well done.

 

Rightfully proud, she was.

 

A moment of calming down the stressed horses from their now victorious riders and they were ready to go again.

 

“Henry, Augustus, Marie, search the bodies to recoverable items and when they’re done, Milton, burn the bodies with your magic before the blood attracts bigger prey.” They shortly bowed and immediately followed what she said, with Kid coming over with some items to clean Lealos' horns with. “Thank you.”

 

“May I do it?”

 

“Lealos, Kid wants to wash you.” He huffed at her before turning to Kid, deliberating for a moment, and nodded, going to the stream as bloody entrails dangled from his right antler.

 

But what could it be?

 

What use was she to the Royals that she wasn’t already?

 

Her mind wracked for the information.

 

She fought dragons in their countries’ name - for the love of _god_ what _more_ could a warrior _do_ for their country?

 

Yes, okay, baby, but that can’t just be it.

 

It was Orlais for fuck’s sake.

 

It’s never just that.

 

It was completely frustrating her. She was sure she didn’t have all the pieces. And she was so busy with all the other things in Orlais she dealt with, business, trades, work in the university, keeping nobles happy, still trying to find _him_ and a bunch of other things…

 

A sigh left her.

 

Maybe it was St. Clements? Bit of a stretch as they half worked autonomously by now. Still a maybe.

 

One of the special dragon hunters under her command come up to her, bowing shortly and raising when she bid it. “Lady Hunter, we’ve searched the bodies and taken all we could and they’re disposed of. Shall we send off a small portion of troops to go hunting as per usual?”

 

“Good work. Yes, grab section three this time and sweep nearer east of this camp.” Ivy took out a small pouch of money and handed it over. “For the rental of another carriage, though there is enough for two if you intend on getting more for stocks for Haven.” The five they’d brought was stocked up on horse food and necessities for their care and extra saddles and such. She hadn’t expected so much, intent on using one of them for food hunting, but Master Dennet knew best and was already reluctant to let his horses go and she wasn’t about to fail her mission over a single extra carriage or two. “Go. Section one and two, go on back to base and make sure we have space for our goods! Three, lead the carriages and four and five guard it!”

 

Snorting of horses and rolling wheels of carriages signified their leaving.

 

Kid was washing the hooves, the rest of Lealos sparkling. He always did have a nice bright sheen to him. Naturally Lealos was being a darling for her, loving all attention and dotingly bestowing his nibbling on her hair, which Kid clearly had given up on sending him annoyed looks and just let it happen, face exasperated when she looked up at her superior. “Lady Ivy.”

 

“He’s just giving you affection like you do him.”

 

“I guess if I finally get attention from a male, he has a beautiful appeal to him.”

 

Lealos puffed up, grand and picturesque as a statue.

 

Kid giggled.

 

“Good choice in males at least. He will protect you. And on that note. Be Orlesian when you choose your first male.”

 

“I’m fifteen, nearly sixteen, there’s going to be… Uhm.”

 

Ivy raised a brow. “Men in your life soon, potentially for marriage and potentially just for bedroom antics?”

 

She went red but nodded. “Can you… help me?”

 

“In what way?”

 

“With… _sex_ ,” She mumbled.

 

“I won’t take the piss, you’ll be nervous enough. Hm. If you find yourself liking someone, come to me and I’ll suss them out, give them a check. If you do find yourself with a guy, ask him to slow down and make sure _you’re_ in control. He will listen if he wants sex or more importantly, respects you. If he pushes or doesn’t agree to take it at your pace, you gather your shit and walk right on out of there. No shame. Us women will look after you and approve of you having the strength to leave. Oh and don’t trust a guy that proclaims his love for you after a week or two. Seriously. That’s bullshit.”

 

“But, how do I _do_ it?”

 

Ivy licked her lips, trying not to grin goofily because this was so _cute_. “Oh! We’ll go back to my cabin and I shall teach you back at Haven.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

“You’ve got no Leader, no real _Inquisitor._ ” The duo heard from on the back of Lealos.

 

Lana looked uncomfortable as The Iron Bull bore his eyes down into her, awaiting.

 

“She is the Inquisitor,” Ivy remarked, riding up with Kid behind her. Lealos snorted and nosed at The Iron Bull’s horns before clacking them against his and nodding when the Qunari stumbled back a couple steps. “If you get outranked by my glorious hart, Ben-Hassrath, do not test my Inquisitor. Kid, inform Commander Cullen that Elite Hunter leadership training will be performed tomorrow and to direct any aggravation from the lesser trainers to _me_. Then go to my cabin and wait outside with a few bottles of meads. Keep the change.” She flicked a coin her way. She knew who he was, having heard of his group before, but Leliana had flown her proper information on him, and she given back rumours and stories she’d heard in return.

 

Kid jumped down, a little smirk on her face and she bowed, dashing off.

 

Ivy had not been in a good mood since she came back two weeks ago from Val Royeaux. When Jameson had pushed to have some of his better men trained with her group and disapproving of their tactics and changing them, overriding what she had left her troops learning for her time in Orlais and delaying her schedule she had for her Elite Hunters, she’d been furious. She’d dragged him to the middle of the camp and fought him in a one on one fight and ended each round swiftly, getting more and more vicious. They each had their section Cullen had approved of and agreed to and she was not having him try to outrank her.

 

Delaware and Gregory had stepped back when she’d glowered their way next, not getting involved with the Dragon Elites.

 

Jameson, in return, had been a lot more submissive to her orders.

 

Something she knew The Iron Bull had seen.

 

“Lana.” Ivy nodded in greeting, flickering her eyes to lock onto the Qunari. “You are The Iron Bull,” She then looked at the couple camps, with good equipment for the men behind him and the decent bottles of mead. “And his Chargers. You take care of your people.” That made her grin. “Good. What is your role in the Inquisition? A special force of the budding army we have? Or shock tactics group, perhaps?”

 

“Whatever the Inquisition needs from us, but not part of the main army itself,” The Qunari responded, seeing Lana looked at her gratefully. Hm. He’d watch this carefully. Seems the hart lady had some push around here. Now to figure out who she was.

 

“I see. You have been watching our troops?”

 

“I see Templar training, rogue and mages, and something else too in that Elite Guard the Inquisition has. I heard it’s for dragons?” He perked up at that on purpose and she gave a slightly more intrigued look he thought of as a win.

 

“Yes. I’m Ivy, dragon hunter and Draconologist Professor of the University of Orlais.”

 

So The Iron Bull may have been trying to suss her out, find her angle, but he could get feelers into what she’d done if she actually was one of the Professors. And he could easily find out about her here over time - but an actual dragon hunter? And slightly redheaded too? Oooh, he was going to be enjoying this one. He eyed up the clothing, knowing dragon hide and dragon bone when he saw it. He stepped forward, watching what she did to that and simply grinned at him, stance relaxing though her hands went slightly lower to her waist. He caught the scent of her body, mixed between the sweetness of human that actually bathed and dragon and steel. Ngh. She smelt delicious. “Sounds like you and me should go to the tavern and have a couple drinks soon. Trade stories of our conquests.”

 

Ivy gave a wink, grin turning playful. “Certainly. May I ask for your presence with your Chargers tomorrow? Each of our troops may eventually need to work together, after all, and synergy best takes down enemies.” It wasn’t really a question.

 

The Qunari smirked and nodded at her authoritative tone. What she asked appealed to his Qun side. “Alright, you’ll have me and the boys there.” Pleasure floated in her eyes at that, approving, something that made his back straighten before he inwardly curse at her Tamassran like appeal that mixed too headily with dragon and had him going.

 

“Excellent. Inquisitor Lana, are you going to Leliana and Josephine and Cullen anytime soon?” A nod. “Good; you’ve seen the horses?” Another nod. “Then I shall be on my way, Inquisitor.”

 

The Iron Bull watched as they left, smirking when he saw Cullen immediately come over to a powerful looking Ivy and wondering how often Ivy let him top.

 

He sure knew who wore the pants in that relationship.

 

Huh.

 

Maybe there’d be room for one more?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

Kid had gotten passed her red face and was beginning to ask questions with a bit more intrigue. Ivy was past teaching her the technical points of sex, and prevention of pregnancy with teas or in an emergency, a few of the mages she would report to like Ivy easily stated she’d done in Val Royeaux plenty of times. She’d explained that it was merely the mage waving over a hand of magic and that’s that, any potential disease and growth of baby cells gone in a swish of the hand. Kid was fine with magic now after her brother half having scared her at first, what with three of her Elite’s being mages, and that made Ivy relieved, hopeful for the future.

 

Mages deserved a chance.

 

Then it came to the more intimate points, and Ivy admittedly was a bit more enthusiastic in her descriptions to see how red Kid could go.

 

It was half-way during a talk of toys that Solas came back with a few books in hand, extra parchment, quills and inkwell on top and lost in thought as he stared at an open book in a free hand, door already unlocked.

 

Kid squeaked as she looked between them, Ivy waggling her tongue at the young lady lewdly, before she bowed to them both and scrambled out of there with a hugely red face.

 

Solas watched her scarper with ears slightly perked up in some alarm and a confused look on his face.

 

_What in Arlathan…?_

 

Ivy snickered to herself.

 

He turned to her, smiling faintly though he was still baffled, because, “It has been far too long since you have laughed like that.”

 

“There’s no great expectations there, it’s easy with her. Plus she was learning about the birds and the bees. You’re an accomplished adult male, it’s completely embarrassing to her that you could have potentially overheard all of this when she’s so green.”

 

“I see. I heard toys, and - Ah. _Toys._ ” He chuckled at her cheeky waggle of the brows. He came over. “Do you wish for toys in our activities?”

 

Ivy hummed, thinking of the many things they could do with extras as she reached for him and stroked the side of his neck. But honestly? She was happy with their sex life. Mostly it was rough and determined for them to get as many orgasms out at possible to sate them and their passion, but a couple times as of last week, it had been slower, sensual, _luxurious_ even, lasting the whole night. He’d kissed and stroked and caressed and she’d melted into a pile of Ivy-goo which he’d smirked at lightly, nuzzling into her and enjoying her affection kisses. It was something he’d begun, completely surprising her when he’d slowed her eager hands. Perhaps he’d thought he’d been just that bit too rough last time? He had lingered over the bruises his fingertips had left before she’d slept with an odd focus. “I am utterly content with what we have for now. Could be fun later on though.”

 

Solas hummed in agreement, kissing her inner wrist as he nodded at her teasing and with a squeeze of her hand he went to the desk he used, placing the books down. “Ma nuvenin.”

 

He didn’t notice her stiffen, thinking of how he enjoyed this time of day best. After working on enlarging and stabilising his spy network during sleep, gathering information he could on all the people here without being found out, and after his practising of his magic to quicken the reawakening of it? Retiring here to Ivy, smelling like _him_ and _his_ and _his people_ was beyond relieving.

 

As time passed, he was slowly getting attached enough that it was getting hard to deny himself of his wish to keep her. She was exactly what he’d wished in a mate. Role Model in her chosen field, playful, focused, a pretty smile and liked to touch him a lot, ever looking to make sure he was happy. He’d never been so cherished. Could not recall how it was with previous long-term partners because this peace and happiness seemed to blow all of that out of the water.

 

Ivy mused out loud, tapping her chin as she stared up at the ceiling, “Plus we’ve yet to bring in your magic before we use any extra tools to enhance. That could make things interesting. Any chance you could use low levelled glyphs for sensation purposes? I’ve heard _tales_ in certain areas of Orlais, you know. And frankly I’m appalled I’ve yet to try any. You’ll have to pop my cherry on that one.”

 

It was very hard to deny himself of her permanent company when she said such curiously fascinating things to him.

 

“If I had magic and superb control over it, _oh_ the things I would do to you…” She murmured, looking him over with a happy sigh.

 

The Dread Wolf wanted to tell her there was the tiniest of sparks there that, with much, _much_ time, she could expand it. That the Fade would love for her, one of his People, to use it. That spirits would whisper words of experience and help in her ears if she’d only but accept she was one of his people.

 

If he’d only but tell her.

 

But how could he know if she’d agree to the falling of the Veil?

 

No.

 

No person would understand it.

 

Any would stop him and he couldn’t say it was wrong for them to try stop him either.

 

Part of him wanted to say it to her, wanted her to know.

 

Wanted someone to confide in.

 

Solas wanted her to reach out in understanding, tug him close and say soothing words to him.

 

Something that would never happen.

 

He re-strengthened himself, if unhappily, but duty pushed him to and he did.

 

He… did.

 

“Oh?”

 

“The things I know of the body and how to manipulate it? You’d be begging me to use it,” She taunted, tonguing her canine at him.

 

He chuckled lowly, masculine and knowing it was exactly how she liked it and he highly enjoyed how her eyes darkened and narrowed, her lips quirked upwards as she was turned on by him. “You invite trouble.”

 

Ivy smiled, closing her eyes and shrugged coyly, smiling to herself as she drawled, “Orlesian, darling, can’t be helped. It’s why we’re loved and hated in one.” Then she opened her eyes and leaned to him in disbelief. “Oh for the… You know what? I feel like I’ve become my mother. I was always considered to be like my father with his fighting and playful streak, and now, voila, flirtatious, hardarse bloody mother.” She leaned back again, shaking her head. “Orlais, what have you done to me?” She said woefully, dramatic for the fun of it, making him chuckle.

 

“She must have been an excellent woman.”

 

“Exemplary. Mother was incredible enough to keep us Montgomery’s all in line even though in every way but one we were able to out-do her. And that was have our father kick the snot out of us when we were brats. My older brother was smarter than all of the family and I was closest to him and he could out-word either of my parents.”

 

“And you?”

 

“Oh, me? Well I used to charm them pretty easily with my grin and nature. My younger brothers, twins, they’d prank anyone, a bit like Sera, but more ah…Orlesian. Despite all our Starkhaven accents. My youngest triplet sisters were the cuties and loved fashion and hair and make-up. Because of this, I always wanted to have a big brood of my own. A loud house. Did you have a big family, Solas? Do you want children?”

 

“No, it was just my mother, and I. My father died young, before I was born, and my mother raised me. She was a happy soul, ever playful, and she loved to make cakes. She was a dab hand at magic, could turn into a wolf.” He smiled at the memory. “I do, in fact, want as many children as I can have.” The People would need to be re-populated quite heavily, but he did indeed wish to have a wonderfully frustrating brood of his own children, laughing, waving at him as they went off to school in a world where magic played with them happily and rejoiced in being used like it used to be. Where he could turn to his mate and give her affection and get it in return. That would be incredible.

 

Ivy put her finger to her lips and then simply asked the question on her mind, “Solas, is this just sex? I understood the rejection when I asked for just us to go back to the vineyards, but I would like a flat-out answer before I gain more feelings than simple missing you, longing ones, feeling great affection to you, etcetera.” She said ‘great’ hoping he’d understand this was important to her.

 

He tensed, all the wishes he’d just thought of flashing through his brain. It took everything in him to say, “It is just sex and a healthy dose of the greatest respect.” He was utterly lying. He even continued on, “I apologize if I have led you on in any fashion. It was unworthy of me to do so.” He bowed lowly, feeling guilt hit him with every word that dropped out like bricks, ears twitching downwards twice, wanted to take each one of them back.

 

Duty first.

 

Ivy was quiet for a moment.

 

It wrenched at his gut.

 

Then she nodded slowly. “Ma nuvenin.” Her stomach twisted at saying that. “Thank you. I didn’t want it to go unsaid and then still wonder if I simply should have asked before they grew or went away.”

 

So, she knew for sure now.

 

Good.

 

That was… good.

 

They weren’t wasting their time.

 

But it _stung_ worse this time, because she knew him better and respected him even more than before, whether in battle outside or in between the sheets inside or over a book or before artwork. She’d have treasured him, like her mother and father had each other. Gods if she was there, back home, they’d have been together, what, forty five years? She gave a little smile at the thought and then lost it, eyes clenching shut. “I will not bring it up again.”

 

Still, it was one less impediment to marrying Gaspard for the good of the country of Orlais.

 

Duty first, and all that.

 

Solas couldn’t leave it like that as he rose, ears lowered and body craving her affectionate touch. Things would _change_. “Ivy-”

 

The hunter shook her head. “Don’t worry, I still want you in bed if that’s on the table. Or on the table if not the bed." She winked. "Anyway, onto another topic I simply must get to now you’re here. With magic, I have some questions about usage.” She lifted her notebook she was working on and went back quite the few pages. “Now, I know you’re not in the Circles, but I have seen similarities in the way you all wield the staff. So for the good of my troops…” She went on, trying to ignore the wretched _ache_ pulsing vividly in her chest, right in her sternum and unhappily flaring through her chest.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was originally going to be titled Duty First. It's pretty much the core of the two, wanting their lives to go well and wanting to rejoice in the affection they've found in each other, but, they're honourable people. They can't just ignore some things for the sake of romance.


	13. Perception

 

 

 

 

**Chapter Thirteen**

 

 

The dragon hunter took up that offer of drinks with The Iron Bull, needing something to knock the edge off from that pain of rejection.

 

It slowly went away as alcohol numbed Ivy, telling him of the best ways to beat dragons and not to just go off after them because, “I didn’t work my arse off to keep the lands neat and tidy and prosperous for all just for you to leave heaping piles of drake and dragon corpses around, damnit.” She grimaced at him, slamming her stein with shitty ale down sternly and then turned the grimace on the drink. “Gods, this crap is disgusting. Why do I want more?” She huffily shoved her stein away, putting foot on seat and leaning an elbow on her knee.

 

Iron Bull laughed loudly at that.

 

“So a higher dose elfroot potion is necessary?” Stitches asked practically, knowing eventually his Boss would be off with this woman to go track down a dragon. He could just tell it would happen. Iron Bull loved dragons and the thought of defeating them and Ivy was a hunter even he’d heard about. It would be bound to happen. Best to get what he could now.

 

The Orlesian turned to him with a nod, leaning to him next to her and putting chin in hand and elbow on chair arm. “Mhm. Add more lyrium to each potion and there was a healer in one of my battalions that infused crushed stones each dragon prefers as an adolescent to calm down their magical breath from developing too quickly and pain them without proper build up.” She waited for him to write it but he was looking at her in bewilderment when she looked up at him. She snorted. “Here.” She held her hand out and took the inky quill he eagerly gave over and wrote down the stones best for each in a minute. “There aren’t many nutters willing to go after dragons anyway, so I don’t feel uneasy giving you this.”

 

He looked it over, awed at all the composition written down. “Why don’t more know of this? I’ve never heard of it before.”

 

“I’ve personally limited the knowledge of it from my end of things, because you always have idiot youths thinking they can simply go out and get their arses kicked and come back to it for a miracle heal, you know? You guys, however, are adept at what you do.”

 

Stitches nodded wryly. “Got it. So it’s not a full heal?”

 

She gave a fifty-fifty motion with her hand. “Depends on how badly you get hit. Dodge quick enough for just a scrape and it’s fine, anything major? Get a magic healer for magic wounds. This potion will just keep it calmed for a limited time until you do and the magic in the potion runs out after a few hours. Dragons breath lingers. Also…” She began writing down extra stuff, about some compounds that slowed the rate of lyrium being used and how much lyrium in the potion could end up negating anything good about the healing portion and push the magic breath aspect it was trying to use and revert it to a pain potion instead. Anything about dragons was her domain, after all, and she made sure to study with anyone who knew things she didn’t over the last decade.

 

“Incredible…” Stitches murmured, utterly fascinated. “Lady Ivy, let me buy you a drink for this. We’ll certainly need it.” He gave a pointed look a smirking Iron Bull’s way, who merely shrugged at him, not even a hint of shame in his posture as he watched them in satisfaction. “I think it’s my round, actually.”

 

“I’ll help you with them.”

 

The Chargers shoved their steins at them and the pair gave them withering looks before looking at each other in companionable exasperation and grabbing them.

 

Iron Bull took the chance to snag her around the waist, though she was already watching him, and slowly pulled her to his lap. “Say, The Bull offers a great ride should you want to have a go at holding me by my horns. Bet you’re missing the hunt, huh?”

 

Ivy grinned, laughing at that. “You’d likelier break me in half with how blasted huge you are.”

 

Stitches simply rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ve much experience in healing that.” He took her steins.

 

“Healing? Wait, _healing?_ ” She called after him, leaning forward and holding herself steady on one meaty thigh of his by the shoulder, causing the Chargers to laugh and to feel Bull’s chest shudder in amusement. “Wow. Ditch me then after I’ve helped you. Twat.”

 

Chuckling at that now, he held her stomach, thumb rubbing and feeling the muscle there. “I can be a soft lover, bet that’s your thing after all the hard hitting and dragon hunting you do.” He leaned closer and practically purred out, “But then again, hunter, what would you say about the rougher, restrained side of things?” He saw the subtle of her chin rising, but her lips parted as her eyes narrowed. “Ah, I see. _Intrigued,_ are we? Ha!”

 

A voice demanded, “Talking of restraint, perhaps you not simply manhandle the Elite Dragon Troops Leader in front of her people?”

 

Solas suddenly appeared before them, having seen and heard all that happened since the mercenary healer and Ivy had stood up as he walked in. Possessive jealousy coiled in him at the sight of her there in Iron Bull's libidinous hold even as he affected a neutral face of blankness, arms behind his back and suddenly looking imposing, like a man used to having his orders followed. He did not like this. Did not like her there. Willing to rip her out of his hold should it come to it. Ready to make her understand he did not like to share. No wolf did.

 

Pain mixed with being pleased at seeing him and feeling all gooey at his protection. “Ah, Solas,” She greeted with a little grin, “Just on the way to the bar to help Stitches. Would you like a mead? On me.”

 

“Thank you, I think I shall.”

 

She hopped off The Iron Bull’s lap and pat his shoulder and went to the bar, people moving out of the way for her and the Charger welcomed her to the sticky bar by shoving her up next to him to get drinks quicker.

 

It worked, Solas noted, glad the Ben-Hassrath hadn’t ruined her reputation.

 

Naturally the spy picked that up, the mage turning back to him with eyes sticking to her for a second or two too long. “Well, well, seems I have a little competition for getting her into bed.”

 

His eyes narrowed. “It is _not_ a competition.”

 

The Qunari smirked at the slight tension he heard. “That’s what you say, but it’s not what I’m seeing.”

 

“Yes, depth perception _would_ be rather difficult for you, wouldn’t it?” Solas mused absently as his gaze flickered to the eye patch, but it hit the mark.

 

A bark of laughter and The Iron Bull knew not to mess with her when Solas was around, if only for the sake of not disrespecting a protective friend (perhaps potentially more?) of hers and stop himself getting that cute little redheaded rear in his bed pallet. “Join us. Ivy and I, we have a thing for dragons.”

 

There was almost a sighing quality to his, “Of course you do,” as he sat down and noted Ivy’s handwriting on the paper.

 

But instantly the two were back and he was crowded by mercenaries eagerly reaching for drinks they placed down and the piece of paper had gone into Stitches hand to the right of him once more.

 

Noting the curiosity from his left side, Ivy spoke up about it once more, taking his interest and the trio began to devise better potions, out of sheer academic, impassioned, and practical fun.

 

But Bull smirked Solas’s way more often than not after he’d successfully gotten Ivy’s attention from him after she was focused on the work with Stitches.

 

And Solas couldn’t help but stay nearer than need be for it, brushing up fully against her.

 

As if Ivy didn’t know.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

If Solas was a little more touchy-feely when they got back hours later, well, Ivy wasn’t too bothered with that.

_And if he’d decided to give her more orgasms than usual?_

 

She smirked into the hollow of her elbow as he pounded into her from behind, wet slapping sounds with each slap of the hips to her arse showing how much she had come from his precise work. Her fingers were digging into the bed when he leaned over and sucked her neck into his mouth as his fingers played magical havoc on her clit, making her cry out as that damnable jawbone of his pressed into her back. She keened as he hungrily flipped her over eyes roving her flushed and needy face with a snarl on his face and ducked down and sucked her clit into his mouth, fingers thrusting in and rubbing against her g-spot, and upon her nearly coming over his fingers he shoved his cock into her and she cried out, flinging her head back and coming hard and strangling his cock, making him grunt loudly and clench his eyes tight.

 

She had her breath given to her for a second, only for him to pound into her again and she moaned out, wanton and tongue lolling out, almost drooling as she held onto the headboard to give herself some stability, which he sucked into his mouth and groaned heavily. It was rough and wet and so dirty and had her mind whirling.

_Well, she wasn’t too bothered by that either._

Ivy keened as he came into her pussy, eyes on hers and her eyes lost to pleasure as it triggered her own and she came hard over his dick once more and making him groan and bury his head into her neck, muttering needful Elvhen into her neck.

 

Well, good things come to those who wait.

 

Because this treatment had her coming harder than ever.

 

She collapsed under him, satiated, eyes drooping.

_And if later on his head rest on her shoulder blade and his thigh over the backs on her thighs as he traced the fang marks on the small of her back made her shiver as it turned into a gentle massage for a good hour that had her groaning and slack?_

 

Yeah, she was perfectly fine with looking potentially available for others just to get this treatment.

 

His eyes trailed over her jealously as he thought of The Iron Bull doing this to her.

 

The Dread Wolf would sooner kill the man.

 

Solas grasped her to him, possessive and unhappy to let her go as she curled into him slightly and fell asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

Ivy and Cullen looked at each other, with a more exasperated look on Cullen’s face and a more intrigued one on the hunters’ face.

 

“And this is…” The Scot led on, curious.

 

“Dorian of House Pavus of Qarinus, Altus of The Tevinter Imperium, and one of the most dashing too. I'll be joining the Herald when she deals with Alexius in Redcliffe. Merely wanted to make sure it was still happening and to see such a _quaint_ village. Also I’m taken, let’s not try ladies, though I understand it’ll be hard.” This mage had intruded upon the War Table, looking fine in Tevinter best, with an excellent body, perfectly trimmed hair and yes, Ivy wouldn’t deny that _most dashing_ was an apt descriptor.

 

He was tan and gorgeous and-

 

Idly looking _Cullen_ over as the man’s hand held the hilt of his sword while Cullen looked at a piece of parchment and ignored the Tevinter for the moment as he fawned over himself.

 

Ivy sighed unhappily, getting attention.

 

He preferred dick, didn’t he?

 

“Well, you do look tasty. I suppose I can just watch you go about doing your daily thing,” Ivy said with a little shrug, giving up. “Don’t mind me watching how your body moves as you practise, do you?”

 

Cullen looked aghast at her boldness.

 

“Of course you may, I shall even give you my handkerchief for when you drool.”

 

Cullen looked at him, incredulous at him playing along.

 

“Even a gentleman? My, I might even use it to weep into for not trying to win you over to my bed.”

 

The Commanders eyes swept back to her, wide.

 

“I would have to give you another then, to show how great a gentleman I truly am when you use the first up from so many tears.”

 

Back to the charming Tevinter again.

 

Ivy grinned widely, “Oh yes, can’t have us _exchanging liquids_ now, can we? You’d never go for it with me after all!” She winked, laughing cheerfully.

 

Dorian laughed brightly as the other three women giggled, glad for her easy acceptance of his sexuality that she’d even joke about it and the women would laugh. “No indeed, Lady Draconologist! So ladies, how would you like me to wield my staff in your name?”

 

They pretended to swoon, making Cullen look skyward in disbelief.

 

“Pretty and good with a staff and doesn’t get us messy?” Leliana continued with her own pretty smile. “I say let him in.”

 

“Haven is so muddy and dull at points, a bit of life and charm will do the place some good,” Josephine added with her own appreciative look over him.

 

Lana just piped up, “You’re in! Too pretty not to be let in!”

 

The women nodded.

 

“What? Are we really going to just allow this Tevinter mage in on the basis of _aesthetics?_ ” Cullen demanded, looking at the four women.

 

They stared at him and emphatically stated, “ _Yes._ ”

 

Cullen snorted in disgust as Dorian preened in utter pleasure at the attention. “I am done with this conversation. Ivy, shall we?”

 

“Let’s. Later, gorgeous people.”

 

“Oh, for-! Maker’s breath, let’s go!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chappie will be a whole load'a smut. Are you ready for it?


	14. Has it Greatly Changed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for helping this fic reach over 100+ comments, 300+ kudos, 60 bookmarks and 4000+ hits!! Whoa!! Love you guys!

* * *

 

 

 

 

** Chapter Fourteen **

 

 

“The Iron Bull is quite the opponent. I wonder how I would fair against you.”

 

Ivy faintly grinned at Solas’s ‘casual’ remark as on his bed without his tunic or undertop he looked through his book on the Elvhen art she’d given to him to keep. She’d just had a friendly fight with The Iron Bull, away from the crowds and her slippery motions after years of fighting beasts and people of all types shone true as she beat him. Yet this was on top of her already large twenty-five years of combat experience before being in this world. She blessed her father for being a martial arts teacher that demanded his kids learn daily from five years old when their mother was out working long days as a lawyer so he could keep an eye on them.

 

And no parent that taught self -defence would have their kid go without, that’s for sure.

 

She certainly wouldn’t with hers.

 

Regardless, it meant for a good ten hours she had trained daily. Weapons had been in her hands for decades and frankly she’d dropped out of school at fourteen to work in the training hall, having found her calling in life early on.

 

Decades.

 

Damn, she was in her forties.

 

She had to wonder at herself in the mirror sometimes, barely aged compared to others.

 

Beauty of modern life on Earth, she supposed. All others her age looked rather… _geriatric_ in comparison. Of course, she had dozens of scars and burns of all sorts all over her body, and some days the marks still ached…

 

Her mind went back on topic.

 

Against Solas, who she’d never seen with a blade in hand?

 

She reached a hand out and Solas immediately came over to her on her bed that she’d had put in extra layers on for comfort she knew he was envious of for not thinking of doing, his book forgotten. “I don’t know, one on one with blades, I’m sure you can’t dominate me, Solas.”

 

A little smirk and Solas ducked down to press her lips to his.

 

Ivy instantly melted into him, sighing out and pressing her lips back to his, hair sticks clattering to the floor as she dropped her book to the side of the bed and slunk her arms around his neck, having been ready to go to sleep. Now she wanted more. He pressed her back to the bed, the sheer presence of him making her feel small and protected and womanly. It was a heady feeling, running her fingers up his firm back, still heated from the riding back here he’d done from out in the Hinterlands on some quest to do with the Mages and enjoying the muscles she could feel.

 

He shifted his lips away, trailing his lips down her neck and licking a line up and feeling her begin to squirm under him, making his blood heat up and travel south and he nibbled under her ear. “Looks like I’m already dominating you.”

 

“I’m enjoying the _attempt_ to at least.”

 

His eyes narrowed and he nipped, leaving a little red mark, only to soothe it with his tongue at her hiss, making her laugh lowly. He pulled back, looking down at her heatedly.

 

“Well, it’s not drawing first blood, but I’ll give you tha-Mmmgh!”

 

He kissed her powerfully then, ardent and ramping up the pace. His hands slid down her body, scrunching up the baggy poets shirt she had on so he could wrap a bare arm around her and feel her naked stomach against his. She was sleekly muscled, toned yet silky soft in a way only a woman could be. She gasped and then whimpered as he kissed her neck up and down hard, taking in as much of her flavour as he could and that made him groan. Then he hissed in delight as he found a spot that had her keening out a little feminine sound and her short nails digging into his back and up. “I wonder how many more spots like this you’ve got, hunter.”

 

Ivy shuddered at his already gruff voice going lower. Did he even realise how that turned her on? Damnit, she was wet as hell so quickly. “Can’t wait for you to find some more, _Fade mage_.”

 

He hummed and pushed himself up on all fours over her, looking down at her breathing heavily, lips bruised, eyes dark and wanting, hair askew. His finger dugs into the bed sheets when she smiled up at him temptingly, femininely knowing and playful. He felt a sound echo in the back of his throat as she licked her lips and her eyes lit up at that, grin widening at his growl of want. His cock was painfully hard, throbbing, having wanted this woman for weeks after being gone for so long to deal with the mages in Redcliffe, used to smelling her scent and feeling her body when in the busy marketplace or camping or sparring in the mornings on the way to Val Royeaux. It was almost like a dream to see her below him panting, saying his name and her hand was lifting to him, tracing that tiny scar on his face.

 

He wanted her hands on him, tempting, sensual, playful.

 

Anything.

 

Just her, all the time.

 

It got so intense sometimes that he could think of nothing else.

 

And the thought of her turning those hands on someone else in the way they were now tracing down his pectorals, his ribs, nails tracing down the outside of his abs and making his body shiver- He ducked down, lowering his body weight completely on her, not letting her escape.

 

No.

 

This was not something he could share.

 

Ivy looked up when his mass kept her down beneath him and she settled quite happily, hands spread on his chest, liking it. A bit of domination was always… his eyes were intense, heated, nostrils slightly flaring and his jaw clenched. One hand cupped her cheek while the other slunk around to enshrine her head, forehead touching hers. He kissed her cheek, then her other, going up to her temple, her forehead, her other temple and down one jawline and up the other and then finally on her lips, delicate and worshipful and she was unable to move, feeling the atmosphere. She swallowed, voice just about able to get out, “ _Solas._ ”

 

“Yes, _Solas,_ ” He repeated possessively, eyes hungry and on her, taking in all of her and feeling drunk off of her submitting to his touch.

 

She grinned at him and nodded, eyes softening when his brightened up from the animalistic look he’d gained on his face. “Sooolas,” She teased and watched his eyes narrow. His hips rubbed against hers almost without thought and she grinned at that and lifted her lips up, which he hungrily took for his own, hands delving to hold her cheeks as he kissed her hard, making her give a plaintive whimper he responded to eagerly.

 

She felt him groaning low and deep and slipping his tongue into her mouth, tasting her and the drink of mead she made and feeling a thrill run down his spine and making his cock twitch against her inner thigh. Even curved over, he was still a good half foot taller than her, so she shifted one leg, knee rising up his side pointedly, instantly getting his attention and understanding, lifting his own so his hips could fully slink into the cradle of hers.

 

When he ground up against her he swore, feeling how hot she was on his cock and making him clench up everywhere. “Fuck. You’re boiling. I want to feel you on my cock, want your heat all over me, want- can I taste you?” He panted, feeling like he was already beginning to sweat, completely taken over by lust for her. He lifted his body, looking her over and she replied by taking her baggy poets shirt off, revealing a bare chest. His hips cantered forward on instincts seeing her upper body naked, eye roaming, unsure what he wanted to see first. He appreciated a woman with a firm, strong build showing their dedication to their field and he was admittedly a breast man so this had him swallowing back saliva.

 

Ivy raised a brow at him, eager and slightly impatient.

 

He took the silent demand with a chuckle and bent his head down, licking long and thick at her nipple and making her suck in a breath. He smiled, sucking it into his mouth as he leant down to rest on and to the side of her, head at breast level and enjoying how her fingers automatically went to his head and gripped to keep him there. His other hand grasped her breast, nipple in between two fingers and he flickered them, biting on the other. It was incredible to have her moaning and whimpering beneath him from such simple movements and he felt a masculine power over her submission to him. He wanted to make her a writhing mess with his body and personality, show her she was his and no others.

 

Solas wanted to make her want him at all times, to think of nothing but of him, to want to leave a mark so permanently she wouldn’t want anyone else. He hissed as her hand was suddenly on his cock, rubbing through the thin cloth of his too tight breeches. He nipped hard making her yip at the suddenness instead of the sedate and leisurely sucking he’d been doing. He grasped her wrist and pulled it above her head, pressing down so she got the idea.

 

“After I taste you coming on my tongue. _When_ I decide to get there.”

 

“S-Sol-” She hummed when his hand trailed down and crept down her thigh, going up once more to unbutton her breeches and with a little help from her, pulled them down and off with those silly but adorable fuzzy orange socks. He repositioned himself swiftly and she spread her legs for him.

 

His fingers lightly skimmed up and down the sodden panties. “For me? So _wet._ ”

 

“I’m already half-w-way built up it feels.”

 

“Let’s get you the rest of the way.” Suddenly he was down there, sleekly taking her panties off and narrowing his eyes in appreciation when lewd strings of her juices followed and her pretty pussy was glistening with her want, lubricating even partly down her thighs. He didn’t think he could get any harder, but his cock ached after a large throb of want pulsed low in his belly. He smelt her powerful scent of lust, her core signalling her want for him. He felt a resurgence of saliva and had to swallow again, slinking an arm under a thigh and over her hips and gripping her hipbone, making sure to keep her down, knowing how much she’d moved and shuffled in want already. He gently opened her lips up, the pink red of her sex slicked up and needy for him and he ducked forward to taste her at her core.

 

“Please, please, ple-ah!” His first lick had her choking, a slow lick over her hole and then up to her clit, making sure the tip of his tongue caught onto it and flicked. “Shit, yes, Solas!”

 

He smirked as her whole body jerked at that, doing exactly the same on his second, third, and forth lick, slow and taking his time. He couldn’t believe it, but she trembled and quivered as if already close and her breath was haggard. He looked up at her, eyes widening at how responsive to him she was today, face completely pleasured and into this. Then his eyes narrowed in determination and he went for it, licking up hard and quick and rubbing his tongue over her clit, making sure to flick, uncaring if he’d get a jaw ache sooner this way. Magic would do away with that after she came on his tongue. She was curling over and her hand went down to keep him in place when tilted his head to experimentally find once again how best to make her cum on his tongue and when he found a good pattern, she was squeezing his head with her powerful thighs and making him grunt at the feeling of being enveloped, of his erogenous ears being rubbed deliciously. He canted his hips against the bed to relieve and tease himself of pleasure. He went even faster then and about ten seconds later she came with a drawn-out cry, back arching and thighs quivering and clutching his head.

 

“S-S-Soool-ah!” Her body was overheated, thighs quaking as her walls clenched over nothing and damn it she wished he was in her for this, hips circling for something to fill them. But he wasn’t stopping, her body calming down and then becoming oversensitive, but he was going and going and it ached and hurt but then this tiny bloom of pleasure began to reappear once more before she was going to shove him away on reflex from it being too much and she focused on that. She was panting and shaking and he slipped his two fingers in, pumping fast and making come hither motions over that special spongy spot on her upper wall and was groaning hard, hands clutching his head tight once again and she felt spots start to flicker across her visions as she began to ride his hand and- “So!”

 

He deeply moaned at her crying out and the decadent flood of her juices on his hand and the scent burning its’ deliciousness into into his brain and calling his name out so wantonly like that. His aching jaw slowed him down as she twitched around his head and he slowly flicked his tongue side to side on her clit before moving back up and over her, idly licking her essence off his fingers and groaning at her taste lighting his senses. Gods, he needed this flavour always. He did away with his foot wraps as she regained her breath and mind and he smirked at her giving him a dazed grin, doing the same to his breeches, letting it all flop to the ground without a care. He smirked at her as she finally opened her eyes, feeling his movements. “Want to continue?”

 

Ivy blinked at him and then nodded immediately when her dazed mind understood the question and what it meant, wanting him in her and wanting him to come too. “Yes!”

 

Solas barked a laugh at her eager grin. He wanted her to be wrecked under him, so dazed with lust she couldn’t think. He leaned down and groaned at her hand on him, making him inwardly bless whatever deities there truly were for granting him a woman with a strong hand that liked to play, pumping him and using her thumb to slick around the drooling pre-cum from the tip of his cock and tease the head with the soft pad of her thumb and then scraped with her nail that had him hissing and then humming as she rubbed it better once more.

 

His lips crashed against hers and he was pushed back to sit. She sat on his lap, legs around his waist and wet lips cuddling his shaft and shifting her hips up and down incrementally, massaging his weeping cock. Her hand still gripped him rubbing and rubbing and _rubbing_ his dick against her clit at the same time and he hopelessly let her, desperate to be in her but letting her take control in this moment so she could be ready for the hours he wished to spend on her.

 

Ivy felt herself begin to build instead of be oversensitive from coming twice so soon and she took that as a sign to lean back a bit and put the tip in her. She grinned as he groaned hard at her boiling heat, but she didn’t shift forward again. She simply circling her hips and making him grip them, fingers tightening hard on her. He tugged forward beckoningly, beseechingly but at her womanly chuckle and denial he broke the passionate kiss and buried his head in her neck and shoulder, breathing out heavily, haggardly at her teasing of him. He seemed not to realise he was muttering things like ‘please, just a little more, I want you, please, Ivy, _please’_ while his own hips matched her movements with added thrusts, only incrementally getting more heat on his cock.

 

A grin and she shuffled closer, hearing him almost sob in relief but then he urged her forward and at feeling her soften in his grip instead of the had firm posture that didn’t let him pull forward, he swiftly kissed her, lifting her up by the arse and then shoved her down on him hard, breaching her fully in one delicious thrust. They both moaned loudly into the kiss, her arms gripping him around the neck tightly now. He felt so thick and hot and deep in her. He lifted her hips up with help from the power of her thighs and slammed her back down, swallowing the sounds of want from each other. He set up a faster rhythm feeling her walls clench wet and slick and grasping around his cock and making him light head.

 

He tried to stop himself from coming to quickly but after thrusting into her so deeply, feeling her boiling cunt grip him tighter and tighter and tighter, he felt her walls clench so hotly and begin to flutter and contract hard, he came with a shout. He squirted into her, thighs clenching and unclenching, balls tense and pulsing and everything feeling so fucking glorious that it was more powerful than any other session he’d ever had, coming extended and being milked for everything he was. He trembled afterwards, the pair of them sweaty and clutching each other before slumping down and to the side, her leg trapped under his and his cock still in her dripping pussy.

 

After a few breathes she chuckled and said breathily, “Welcome back, Solas.”

 

He unhappily pulled out, tugging up the blanket over them. “I am relieved to be back. It was… quite the trip.” He paused and then decided to inform her of the recruitment of the mages.

 

Her eyes were wide and awed, mouth parted, having lifted up onto her elbow a little way into the beginning of the story, gently stroking along his diaphragm.

 

The only thing she could say was, “Whoa,” when he finished. “Time travel? Incredible. You don’t remember it?”

 

“No, I do not. I do wonder of the future and what is to happen to me…” He turned onto his back, tugging her onto him which she happily did and enjoying the flesh of her breasts and the stiffness of her nipples against his body for a few seconds before he said soothingly to her, “But that, thankfully, is a world not to be. I would not wish to know what they’d have done to you.” The thought got to him and he nuzzled into her, once again beginning their erotic actions in bed by flushing healing through them both. “Let us forget that. It had been weeks since I last tasted your divine taste. I want more of you.”

 

“I’m quite happy to partake in you as well.” She winked at feeling revived once more, ready to go. “Let me have your essence, Solas, I’ve a crave to fulfil.”

 

He was instantly hard as he saw her tongue loll out and shoved him back onto the bed, crawling over him, the pair smirking.

 

“Na raja, ma’asha.”

 

_As you command, my lady._

 

And this time, at the thought of her being so crudely and disgustingly treated in the dank, nasty cells that Lana had described to him, he went slower, gently touching and reminding him that she was here, he was here, they were awash in affection and adoration for each other and that was all that mattered to him in that moment in time. He could pretend they were together, could pretend this was a happy future in which magic floated about them and they had no worries and relished in that thought as he kept his eyes on her as he gently made love to her. He wanted to give that to her. And to himself.

 

Solas pretended in that moment in time and it was _divine_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, with Solas reluctantly letting her sleep for a few hours (in which he truly did like to go for as long as he could to make sure each time counted and damn had Ivy never had a man quite like this!), Ivy woke up, fragments of dreams of red lyrium and torture in her mind.

 

Of wet and damp and cells.

 

Of multiple dragons and flying through the sky, her body reeking of death and depravity and a red film over her eyes as she looked upon the continent from the back of a Kaltenzahn.

 

She rubbed her temples, head throbbing.

 

Now _that_ horrific scene would be on her mind for weeks.

 

“Are you well, lethallan?”

 

Ivy turned to Solas, as naked as she was, giving a little grin and shaking her head. “Just a bit of a bad dream.” She leaned forward, holding his cheek and about to kiss him when she pulled away with a groan, thinking of work. “I have far too much to do other than you even if I longed for your body when you were at Redcliffe.” She put a quick kiss to his lips that lingered a second to long and winked and then got up with a sigh, stretching and grinning back at him when he trailed a hand over the small of her waist and eventually down her arsecheek and thigh. He gripped at her leg and drew her closer, lifting it and licking up her labia and flicking the tip of his tongue at her clit. “Solas…” She half warned, half wanted, hand on top of his head, thumb stroking an ear.

 

Pleased to know their ‘no relationship’ conversation really hadn’t affected this, he didn’t let go.

 

He was relieved things hadn’t changed.

 

His hands gripped as he devoured her. He enjoyed her until she cried out and curled over him, shuddering through the orgasm he brought her. He cleaned her up with his tongue, enjoying every drop of her taste with a groan. _Mouth-watering_. “Think of us in this bed, today, of me filling you repeatedly later on.”

 

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Ivy grinned and ducked to kiss him regardless of her taste on his tongue, knowing she’d do her best not to.

 

After all…

 

She pulled back with a wink and turned to change with a satisfied grin on her face that had Solas smug as she went off to change and get to the healer’s tent for another brew of pregnancy prevention.

 

…Things had greatly changed.

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels like my second proper smut scene (like a long one, not just a quickie snip one) that I've done, so how do you think I did? Would love to get feedback from you! Anything you favoured, anything you'd like to see in the future, etc. And what do you think of the changes in the relationship between them? And what of Ivy seeing red? Thoughts or theories?
> 
> Also, with a name that has an 's' at the end, which is preferable - Solas's, or Solas'? I like an extra 's' at the end.
> 
> Oh, and Mike Laidlaw quittin'? What do you guys think about that?


	15. What You Came For

 

 

**Chapter Fifteen**

 

 

 

The Scot frowned, a week or two on from the mage recruits arriving in Haven, hands deep in dragon dung as she stared at it in confusion.

 

Her men looked at each other uneasily but said nothing. This was clearly important considering she gagged but continued.

 

Ivy couldn’t understand it.

 

Nothing here of the diet made sense.

 

Not all the food in the dragon passed out perfectly like this had. No bits of animal lingered and frankly she was bemused from the atrocious smell wafting… there were bits of… decay?

 

Glowing, sizzling decay?

 

She stepped back, peeling off the long gloves and allowed water to be poured over the parts of her arm the gloves had been on as she stared at the mess at her feet, accepting the heavy-duty soap and absently cleaning herself.

 

“People, usually I could tell the diet of the dragon from this, and therefore, what dragon it would be. None of us perfectly pass food, yes? Sometimes we have bits of undigested food left in it.” They nodded, murmuring their understanding. “Each dragon has their preference. What you see here is like nothing I have seen. All dragons don’t pass food completely because they eat so much of it and this leads to telling us how often they eat, likeliness of making new clutches of eggs, preference dictating type of dragon if we don’t know what breed it is and so on and so forth. This has nothing in it to denote anything of species. Worse is the fact there is decay in this. We could be facing a diseased dragon. She could pass pestilence onto our people, to surrounding towns, to our crops.”

 

Kid shifted, getting her attention. “There’s… not been any disease rumours? Can she have just begun living in this area?”

 

“It could mean she has just arrived, yes,” Ivy said reluctantly and then explained herself at Kid’s curious look, still cleaning, “But I’ve been on the trail of this one for a while. Only traces of its flight pattern against trees or scrapes on the ground and flattened surface of a dragon sleeping are things I’ve found. I can usually tell all I need to from one of those things. Burn those gloves, Arcturus. Smell of dragon dung never gets out of clothing unless it’s dragon webbing.” She sighed at not bringing more pairs of said dragon dung smell resistant clothing.

 

Arcturus asked, staff twirling and his magic blasted them away instantly, dust flying away but still leaving a nose wrinkling odour, “Is there anything we can tell?”

 

“The dragon does has some base patterns to it. Luckily, we can knock out the most dangerous, which is the Highland Ravager and Kaltenzahn. From the stench I’d say it was a fire breathing one, which knocks it down to three, considering how the excrement is still hot even now. But it has the heaviness of a Hivernal to cause such flight patterns. I can only guess a new breed, and she’s close.”

 

There was silence.

 

“What are your orders, Lady Ivy?”

 

She pulled down the sleeves of her  _In Death, Sacrifice_ outfit, free from scent. “We return back to Haven; it’s time I let us go celebrate the closing of The Breach. There’s nothing we can do right now. We’ve had no sightings, nothing to state which way she goes or where she has possibly nestled.”

 

It was Arcturus that stated, “I can’t just pretend this is something to ignore by drinking.”

 

The others agreed.

 

“There are masses of mountains she could be in around here, unfortunately.” She looked at the peaks as she waved her hand at the dusky skies. “And there are… so… many…”

 

The sixteen of them all widened their eyes at the enemy forces coming their way and began to freak out.

 

“Oh. _Shit_.”

 

An army!

 

That had to be at least three times the amount of their own people!

 

Fear struck her for a moment.

 

The bell in Haven suddenly rang from afar.

 

And that fearing moment passed swiftly as infuriated indignation rose at someone attacking _her_ people.

 

“Elite!” Ivy suddenly barked after she got over her own fear and fury and went furtive. “When we head back, you will find your en-masse sections and subs! You will be strong! Once you kill one, then you go onto the next! Think defence! These threaten us all, the only ones who have trained to take on the rest of these rifts! On the horses!” She swept up onto Lealos and went into a run when they all got on their mounts. “One to Twelve, you will take control of your section! Eleven to Fifteen, we need our supplies and people! So take a quarter of each of your sections and get whatever you can onto the carriages and leave! The trainers and Commander Cullen and I will take over the other portion of your sections!”

 

“Yes, Hunter!”

 

Ivy could only pray they were all enough for the vast majority to survive this.

 

She should have tried to press them into somewhere more defensible instead of lamenting the lack of defences this place had inside her own head, instead of merely setting up stronger walls by doubling the wood. Foolish, stupid woman she was! Too much thinking of a particular male and enjoying him.

 

Enough of that.

 

And enough of this thinking!

 

Her mind set onto battle, adrenaline pumping.

 

It was yells and shouts and clanging weapons they came to. “You know what to do, Elite! Take command! Keep your people safe! Go!” With a piercing shriek, Lealos raced faster than the horses, head falling down and trusting in his rider as she guided him by light taps. A few breathes later and she squeezed her feet, making him crouch down at then use all four legs to bound low to the ground and impale several red lyrium imbued Templars on each massive antler and catch himself. Ivy protected his sides with her jian swords from those that had mind to attack the terrifying beast, easily parrying slices away.

 

The hart stomped on another one, kicking his legs up behind him and helping Ivy jump off and onto and especially large red Templar, both blades shredding into his neck and she twisted.

 

Jameson instantly had her back, rogue ways and their training together had him able to follow her and also dance around Lealos adequately. “Lady Hunter! Are we going in sections?!”

 

“Yes! Take Twelve, Gregory Thirteen, Delaware Fourteen and Cullen has Fifteen! A quarter of them are being taken by my Eleven to Fifteen to help save the people and get as much equipment we can out of here! Go!”

 

Jameson did, the better messenger of the trainers, knowing Haven the best and taking her word above all others on the field.

 

“ELEVEN! TO ME!”

 

She swooped around and under a shield, killing the Templar via the unprotected neck, ducking away and jumping on the back on a Templar that was about to attack a new recruit and stabbed into his eyes. She flipped off of him diagonally, kicking him hard enough to send his dead body into another Templar and then twisted, impaling another on the left jian as she blocked an attack by great axe on the right. It left a crack in it, making her growl. The left blade sunk deeper into the now dead man, so she twisted him around and let the overhead slash of the axe land in him, neatly chopping him in half as she cut the axe-wielder a neat slice in his neck. Then another came for her as she dodged away from axe man falling with the dead body to gorge a hole in his neck with her free blade, only to dodge a second axe-wielding bastard with a tut of annoyance.

 

The Scot whistled and jerked so Lealos would know what to do, blocking another attack from a different red Templar with her cracked blade and it broke. She cursed, unrelenting her grip on her good blade and stabbing the suddenly arrogant Templar about to take her down under the armpit as he foolishly raised his claymore high. Blood sprayed, blinding the axe wielding Templar behind her and making him shout out an insult her way as she swiped her broken jian over the claymores toting enemies’ throat.

 

Lealos slammed into the blinded axe man wiping away the red liquid as Ivy took out her undamaged blade from the armpit with a mighty heave and a foot to help.

 

With the hart to momentarily protect her, she scavenged the ground with her eyes, dismissing many weapons instantly. Too big, arrows but no bow, no good at warhammers, useless at the chakram. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon-Ah!” There was finally a short sword on the ground, several inches too short for her, but her right hand was dominant so she kept the jian in the left and would simply make do with the unenchanted blade. “No time to be ultra-choosy.” The left trebuchet fired and made her smirk, but the timing was bad to have done so.

 

The martial artist rolled out of the way of a burning red blast coming at her from a Red Templar, clothing soaked by blood and picking up dirt from the stickiness.

 

“Red lyrium?” The woman muttered, dodging again and then charging the next.

 

He was down in a second.

 

She charged another four distracted Red Templars taking on two scouts, spearing in weak spots and dashing away again when another big Templar came her way, making her grit her teeth but Lealos had followed with a war cry. The sheer immenseness of the hart distracted the big Templar and his war-hammer, allowing her to neatly stab him at the backs of the knees and the mount to pierce him with his sharp antlers. The cry made others charge, but a well place kick from Lealos took out three behind him, breaking the firsts’ ribs, and the scouts and Ivy were able to quickly take on the next five. The scouts thanks trailed after her as she ran to the next lot to kill.

 

Finally, Eleven came over and Ivy was able to take control of the part of outside Haven, mages creating barriers against red lyrium bolts shot at them while archers took them out and warriors charged, blue lights of barriers dancing over their skin. The next few sections around took note and put more effort into formation.

 

A good twenty more minutes and several hundreds of red lyrium imbued men dead against their defending army, there was a tiny pause. She wanted to wash away the blood on her hands, but the stickiness of it gluing her hand to it was helping her keep a grasp on it. Her hands ached from gripping so long but she didn’t dare move them, simply rotated her wrists to relieve tension. She took the time to scrap off organs from Lealos’ antlers with her blades however and check him over. Cullen was by her a solid twenty seconds later when the breather in the battle extended and she was looking for a better replacement weapon to use. “They’ve gone to the trebuchet on the left! We need the one on the right to go as well! Find Gregory at one!”

 

“Got it. Take over my Eleven!”

 

“Eleven and Fifteen! To me!” Cullen cried out in righteous fury.

 

Then they heard it, the roaring from far away.

 

Ivy stilled before snapping her head. “The High Dragon I’ve been chasing,” She breathed, adrenaline pumping faster as she trembled with awe and excitement and fear as battle begun once more around then deafening with metal on metal and screams of death and rage. Sweat dripped down her neck, trying to cool her overheated body, but this was making her blood _sing._ “Retreat the men to the Chantry after the trebuchets launch! Make sure they pick up any stragglers and wounded! It will aim for them as a living snack and land on the buildings and breaking them and we won’t be able to get over the debris quick enough with any wounded!”

 

Cullen nodded, bowing to her experience and swiftly going back into battle.

 

“Lealos!” The mount came over as she ran and ducked his blood-soaked antler to her. She grabbed it with a bit of trouble, sorely wishing she had brought extra gloves, and he swung her to his back and sped to the trebuchet, hooves pounding the dirt and snow powerfully. Luck was on their side, as only a couple Templars remained and the trebuchet was winding down already as Gregory aimed the right trebuchet and was defended by his men, some injured, some not. Lealos ducked low at her command and followed her legs once more, taking them out by impalement. “Gregory! Status!” She demanded, Lealos flinging his head clear of bodies as his men took healing potions at the small break they got, rolling shoulders and head to ease the locking up of muscles.

 

“None coming from this side anymore! Trebuchet will now fire!” He kicked the handle and the boulder _flew_. “Find out what’s stopping the left! We’ll reload and keep firing! Men-” He commanded them but Ivy was already turning away.

 

“Lealos!” A cry and the hart bolted to the opposite side, the pair breathing heavily. Then they saw a large swell of reinforcements, inclusive of a huge mutated red lyrium soldier, easily as tall as a young high dragon if only a twentieth of the length and her hands gripped tighter on her blades. They’d done this only on high dragons three times, only the last time successfully without damage. Ivy timed it, knowing what she’d have to do. “Have you got one more in you, Lealos?! Give it everything! The arm!”

 

An outraged shriek from the hart drew all attention to them, blotting out the sound of the dragon with the sheer decibel of it. Lealos was a blur, blood covered fur glinting. He would not use his antlers. Instead, he bounced mightily, streaking through the air and slamming into the humungous arm and cracking it. It sent bolts of pain up his front legs, but the powerful diamond-strength-like hooves kept most of the shock from completely ruining his legs then and there. Unfortunately they’d not be able to use the tricks on the Behemoth they’d done for the actually softer high dragons.

 

Behemoths seemed to be made of _rocks_.

 

But only part of the head was.

 

The huge behemoth slammed to the ground, shaking them around it. It was about to get up, but Lealos was having _none of that_ and raised its damaged hooves up and slammed them down onto its head, once, twice and a final third time on Ivy’s command. The hart bellowed his shriek out in echoing triumph as the skull caved in and the Templar stopped moving, dead.

 

“Guard the Inquisition, Lealos!” Ivy jumped off and did her part, slashing and gutting stunned Templars with the rest of them as Jameson and Delaware aimed the trebuchet as quick as they could. It clicked, finishing aiming, but Ivy heard the high dragon roar as the last Templar was cut down savagely by The Iron Bull and his axe. “MOVE!” She bellowed, “Back to the Chantry! We cannot take the dragon here and risk the trebuchet breaking! Josa i Solas, Lealos!”

 

They dashed with Lealos protectively next to Solas, but Ivy looked up, noting the position of the dragon and that it would fly at- no… Her head snapped around to see the groaning and getting up in pain- ‘ _LANA!_ ’ She had to save the girl she’d begun to look at as a daughter, heart clenching at the thought of her dying. “Not by a fucking dragon. Not on my _fucking watch_ ,” The Scot hissed in fury. She bolted back, uncaring of Solas’s alarmed face at the scowling grit she knew was on hers, rolling away from the suddenly landing dragon and sliding to Lana’s side, dragging them both up to face the scaly bastard as it cast its flame and blocked the others from getting through. The fire was different, too red for even a fire breathing dragon to have.

 

“What the fuck…?”

 

“What is it?!” Lana yelped.

 

“Fereldan Frostback, but mutated and… Gods… What happened to you, you magnificent thing?!” It was almost decaying before her eyes, goopy holes dripping repugnantly, nose mostly gone, majestic right horn completely lost. Spikes came out of it and she saw bubbles try and hold back some of the glow. Her mind whirled to reports and instances of this from others of the few rare diseases that could affect dragons. “Only something this big could take on this type of disease for it to remain even partly alive. Blight?! Red lyrium?!”

 

“Ivy!” Lana said fearfully.

 

Ivy was too concentrated on the dragon, arm holding Lana back as she backstepped, keeping eye contact now she had it. “Can’t, have to keep focus with it as a challenger or it’ll attack!” She hissed, watching how it moved, how its gaze flickered in and out of seeing and fought against… something. The Herald fell, green light blazing and she snapped her eyes away with a cry at the mark acting up so badly for the first time in weeks, causing the beast to roar and charge at her. Ivy grabbed and chucked Lana away from the beast and rolled to the side, grabbing an unused shield and grimacing when it was sliced at by claws and was chopped off at the weaker top.

 

She hollered to keep its’ attention and dodged, again, and again, and again, stinking breath making her choke but never look away once.

 

Had to keep it on her.

 

She flung herself away from flame breath.

 

Had to keep it away from Lana.

 

She slashed at it and made it snarl and bite at her, missing, and she breathed hard striking at the top of the claw where it was more delicate and causing it to roar in infuriation.

 

Had to keep them alive for something to let them save themselves.

 

She could just about think when-

 

“ _HERE’S YOUR PRIZE!_ ”

 

The trebuchet was let off with a powerful slamming noise and the high dragon turned away at the sound of it. Ivy took the chance to look back and Lana waved her over desperately. Ivy dashed to her, grabbing her wrist and running with her, feeling the Herald flinch and trip when the dragon roared so she desperately grabbed the thin woman and hefted her into her arms as the piercing sound echoed and the floods of ice hits her back, sending them slamming down into a mine. They smacked into the ground and rolled hard out of the way of the blast of snow following them.

 

There was nothing for a moment.

 

Ivy felt the breaking of her contract with Leliana as Haven was destroyed and immediately got up as it woke her up from being dazed, fear in her as she checked Lana but the teen grunted and got up. “Lana…” She breathed, sweeping over and holding the elf’s shoulders, absolute relief in her. It raced through her, weakening her knees. “…You’re _okay._ By the stars…!” She said hoarsely, her eyes watering. “I was so scared that-” she cut herself off, relief so immense she choked.

 

The Inquisitor looked up, a bit gobsmacked by how much the woman clearly cared for her. “I-Ivy? It’s fine, you don’t have to- aw man, don’t cry! You’re the tough one! The dragon hunter! You don’t let things scare you this bad! C’mon, let’s go. You can boss me about again when we find the others.” She turned away, uncomfortable with the depth of emotion shown.

 

Ivy was bitterly disappointed the feelings of care weren’t returned, that she was only looked up to in respect as a hunter, not even as a friend. That she was the mean one that bossed her about all the time, even though it’d all been for her. “I was terrified I’d lose you, fiddles,” She admitted quietly but then straightened up and began to lead the way, body aching physically and chest hurting emotionally. “But… Ma nuvenin.”

 

There was nothing much to tie her here now.

 

Her contract was gone, the Herald would be happier without her and Solas-

 

Well.

 

Perhaps her fate did lie with Gaspard.

 

She grabbed her dropped blade and swiftly double timed it through the large room, body aching but emotionally numb.

 

They silently went down the hallways, Lana about to open her mouth to apologize but then closing it, rubbing her upper arm holding her staff awkwardly as she stared at the stiff and powerful back of Ivy. One time they had to pause as a miniature rift opened and the enemies were sliced down by an angry blade. Lana couldn’t even begin to move her staff and shrank in on herself, guiltier than ever both at being harsh to the woman’s fondness of her and being so useless. Then they got to the end of the long halls and out into a blizzard. “If… we stay here we’ll… we’ll lose them.”

 

“It is as you say, Inquisitor.”

 

Lana winced at the blandness, raising her hand to protect her face from biting winds and snapping snow as she ventured forth but suddenly there was nothing. She looked to see an arm holding a broken shield before her and a body behind, blocking the worst of the storm. The blade in the other was sheathed, but then dried meat was shoved into her face. “Ivy?”

 

She couldn't very let her tiny elf lass fall. No matter how much she tried to get the staff to fatten her up, she still remained a slim thing. “It’s very hard and will take long to chew. Hopefully the juice and the chewing keeps you focused. Come.”

 

It only made her feel worse.

 

“Ma nuvenin, Ivy.”

 

She did not see Ivy flinch.

 

 

* * *

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

There were long dredges of nothing but the wind whistling painfully past them that turned into hours as last steps up a hill took a minute each. ‘ _Keep her alive. Keep her alive. Keep her alive._ ’ Ivy was mindless from the cold, last zaps of energy only on the next step and keeping a constantly shuddering elf _up_. Her arm was around her waist, frozen there, knees behind hers to make each step continue for the elf. ‘ _Keep her alive. Keep her alive. Keep her alive._ ’

 

“THERE!”

 

‘ _Keep her alive. Keep her alive. Keep her alive._ ’

 

“Inquisitor!”

 

‘ _Keep her alive. Keep her alive. Keep her alive._ ’

 

A keening cry made her slowly look up at a jerkily running Lealos.

 

“Lealos… my… wonderful boy,” She spoke reactively and smiled, wobbly, lips painfully cracking and brought the shield down, revealing a badly shuddering elf to the Leaders of the Inquisition and several others whose eyes widened. She lifted the elf onto the back of Lealos, knowing his fur and body would warm the elf up better than any cloak and shuddered again for the thousandth time as she guided her boy forward. ‘ _Keep her alive. Keep her alive. Keep her alive._ ’

 

“Inquisitor!”

 

“I-Ivy?!”

 

“Lethallan?”

 

Ivy ignored them, unfocused, unblinking, mindlessly set on reaching the fire she saw, hand on the neck of her mount as she kept up the shield and guiding him down the hill slowly.

 

‘ _Keep her alive. Keep her alive. Keep her alive._ ’

 

It was Cassandra that stepped back, seeing the mechanical stare of the hunter, hand gripping jian and fur while the other held up a shield, frozen into place.

 

‘ _Keep her alive. Keep her alive. Keep her alive._ ’

 

People watched as she came in, stepping out of the way of the duo, silently respectful and in awe of seeing this. The fire was paces away and she stopped, wobbling in one spot for a moment as Lealos lay down, and then slammed to her arse before falling sideways away from a bleeting Lealos and falling unconscious as ‘ _Safe_ ’ crossed her mind, eyes rolling to the top of her head, unknowing she was caught by familiar hands. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more dragon stuff, naturally :) It's what Ivy came here for after all, and what Corypheus came and tried to get, so yeah, title. 
> 
> So I was watching a little of Alexis Kennedy's prior games Sunless Sea/Fallen London and yeah, as a writer he seems pretty damn decent and the games are definitely rpg and designed for the players preference in how to win. I wonder how him being a writer of secondary characters and lore will go; hopefully rather well! And I'm guessing DA4 will be out early 2020 if it's the whole three years development again... Though it would be good for them to release it before Xmas 2019. Better for us players, too!


	16. To Believe In People

 

 

 

**Chapter Sixteen**

 

 

 

Ivy was surrounded by warmth and fur when she woke up to the end of singing, listening to the words with a faint smile slowly appearing, and then heard a cheer.

 

She didn’t want to deal with it just then and snuggled into a sleeping Lealos.

 

“Keep her alive. Keep her alive. Keep her alive. That is the only thing I heard from you.” Her eyes snapped open and blade by her side went to hand and she pointed it at whoever it was in there with her, suddenly back in battle mode. A blond kid in some large brimmed metal hat held his hands up and she looked him over. Commoner clothing, badly kept hair, submissive posture, easily killed in such a barely defensible position. She shouldn’t be so quick to attack but… it was understandable, she felt, wanting to protect herself and her close one. “Is my hair badly kept?”

 

“Well kind of, a bit. Wait. You… read my mind?”

 

“Your compassion! I read your compassion. For her! You really adore her. Why doesn’t she adore you back? Everything you did was to better her, because you care, but she thinks you’re too hard on her, that you don’t believe in her.”

 

Ivy frowned at that, wondering if she was. “I wouldn’t-”

 

“-Push so much if you didn’t think she could handle it, because you think she could excel if she just focused, that she has to if she wants to stay alive. To _thrive_.” He paused as her mind went to her father. “Someone said that to you. It echoes in your head _One more go, get up one more time, break through one more block of theirs to win, my little warrior princess-_ ”

 

She blotted that out from her head, forcefully thinking of nothing but staunchness in feeling nothing. “I… please do not reveal-”

 

“I can’t see it. Why can’t I see it?! Only eleven years!” He said in alarm, arms up and holding his head, beginning to rock. “Is there something wrong with me?! Is there something wrong with you?!”

 

“No. There isn’t.” Ivy finally put her blade down and touched his knee, wanting him to be okay. “We are fine. However, I want you to hide that from everyone. And also-” Her mind zipped through to her relationship with Solas and the deal with Empress Celene and possible husband Gaspard. She didn’t mind much else being revealed.

 

“But he cares so much more than you think! He would keep you by his side forever if-”

 

“Don’t. He has asked not to.”

 

“ _Ma nuvenin._ After a while it’s easier to say that after all the rejecting, to look accepting and still open to friendship when it _hurts so much_. You _hate_ those words. You _loathe_ them. Fear them. Fear them happening to you from those you care for. And you’ve heard it. Oh, you are in pain from me saying this! Let me make you forget… I-I… I can’t! You still see me, like Solas! You’d never forget me!”

 

Ivy was bemused, exhausted and wondering what this was, where she was, and what on earth he was talking about.

 

“This is his tent, at the back. Lealos would only let him near, because he still smells like yours and Lealos accepts only that. So does Solas. There are clothes… He washed you down as you slept. _Every flicker of toned skin bared, not touched, not sliced or cut or stabbed, only sticky with blood. He is so relieved you came back, so incredulous with your indomitable focus not to fail an elf even if she was marked to save the world, determination not to lose to anything, and so happy you were not killed. Not killed, just harmed, bruised but not beaten, never beaten, here with him, being cared for by his hands, having only seen such talent in- Enough, Cole. It is enough._ ”

 

“You are Cole?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I am Ivy.”

 

“You have many names! How do you know which of them is which and who is who?” His head cocked, confused.

 

“Practise. Ivy. This is my preference.”

 

“To your friends. You’ve more here than you think,” Cole said simply. “Romance and duty doesn’t have to keep you here. Nor does it have to be what takes you away. Cassandra cried in her tent for the one she considers her dragon sister.”

 

Ivy felt tears hit her eyes, happiness lighting in her as something like relief and familial love hit her like a truck and she breathed out heavily.

 

Forget men and duty – Cassandra considered her a _sister!_

 

She had needed to hear that.

 

Needed to know she was wanted for something other than her ability to fight or to fuck.

 

She smiled, teary eyed and blamed age on that, looking away as adoration throbbed in her. “Thank you, Cole. I love her.”

 

“That was the right thing to say!” He sounded pleased for both of them. “I _am_. You want to walk by yourself. Go to the right of the tent, walk there around the camp. The people, they won’t see you.” He disappeared.

 

Ivy turned to Lealos, seeing him snoring happily, not at all in pain when she gently touched his closest leg.

 

Her perfect boy.

 

Good.

 

She got up, noting she was in a pair of her breeches and… wearing a tunic of Solas’s. She disliked the fact she felt comforted by it and that she wished it had his scent on it, but it _was_ clean so... She reluctantly grinned at the fact he’d put on her fuzzy orange socks for her even if she knew it made him raise his brows and sigh out in exasperation to himself. She loved these things and he never denied how warm they were, especially when she’d put them on him when he slept once and he’d woken up to them in utter distaste and gave her such a dry look she’d peeled into laughter each time she’d looked at him before having to leave to attend her Elite’s.

 

She remembered having come back an hour later to grab some military notes, only for her eyes to drop down and see him still wearing them while resting on his bed with a book, partly to make her laugh and partly because he liked the feel of them, and she fell back to the door in laughter and slid to the ground, slapping it.

 

He’d looked _so ridiculous_ in them!

 

Prim and proper Solas with a predilection for knowledge and manners and what some would call ‘stick-up-the-arse’ syndrome in ridiculous blindingly orange fuzzy socks!

 

Ivy had gone over to him and kissed him hard, only for him to swat her arse and make her squeak laughingly but drag her to his lap _, book forgotten as he rolled her under him…_

 

She thought it was her favourite memory of them during the months together, of him…

 

Then she shook her head, pushing out any good romance thoughts of him.

 

It was fine to think of the first bit, not the second.

 

With a final grin at them, she tugged her cleaned boots on and the heavy pelt that’d been her blanket – a great bear - over her shoulders and left the camp. She was glad she took the pelt, wind whipping around her, even if far lighter than what she’d travelled through to get here to this camp. But the fresh air and the sight of all this took her to now, and she was relieved. It was good to see so many survive, though she didn’t wish to be part of it just yet, didn’t want to face the crowds or talk to anyone. She wanted clarity of mind and some peace. Just not in a tent.

 

The crunch of her feet was calming and she closed her eyes as she slowly made her way around the camp, sliding her feet over the snow so she didn’t bump into anything without warning. Her sight caught blue light from behind lids and she opened them, staring serenely at the memory of flame before her.

 

This had Solas all over it.

 

A sigh.

 

Even when she was trying to get rid of the thought of him he came back in front of her. She put part of the bear belt under her rear and sat on the ground, staring at it with tiredness.

 

It was pretty though, mesmerising.

 

She could feel herself relax, mind chilling out.

 

Time went by as she felt her mentality cool down from the fighting state it had been in and finally calmed down.

 

It was nice to relax, even if before _his_ flame.

 

“Lethallan. You should be resting...”

 

“Heh.”

 

_Speak of the devil._

 

“Hm?”

 

Ivy covered it up with a, “You’re the first elf that has called me friend, Solas. And with such consistency too.” She looked up slowly, eyes half lidded. “I am resting, lethallin.” She put her eyes back on the flickering mesmerising blue fire and ducked the lower half of her face into her given pelt, breathing calmly. She didn’t speak anymore, watching it. She saw him come around from the corner of her eyes to stare at her but didn’t look away from the blue veil-fire.

 

Solas crouched down beside her, one leg knelt behind her while the other was beside her, arm on his raised knee and he touched her shoulder to guide her attention to him. “Come, let us get you back in the relative warmth of the tent. You look about to fall asleep on your feet.”

 

She didn’t move when he pulled at her shoulder gently. “I am fine. I just wish to be alone and stare at your fire for a bit.”

 

Solas blinked slowly at her knowing it was his. Perhaps someone had told her? He took her in, noting her more bland face. “Are you well?”

 

Ivy turned her face to look at him seriously. “I’m thinking of leaving the Inquisition.”

 

“Lethallan? Ar valar?” There was a note of shock in his tone. _You’re leaving?_

 

She took a moment to make sure it was that and nodded, turning back to the fire. “Vin. My contract was with Haven. It is finished. My country has problems with its’ own dragons and I will deal with them, and I can also speak with my fellow draconologists of what I saw of the diseased red lyrium dragon, make detours back. The Elite Hunters have learnt what they need to know from me. The Inquisitor has her protectors. It… is best I leave and simply visit here. An ambassador of a sort.” Plus so much else to do! Her business of St. Clements that while running itself autonomously, needed check-ups, once again and all the events and reputations in different areas to maintain, dragons to hunt and ecology to preserve… So much to do… and she was so tired still.

 

“There is still the dragon potentially coming here. The Elite Hunters constantly look to you, are still so young. Ellana has her protectors, yes, but you are nearly as big a symbol to the fighting portion of people here. You helped save many lives other than just the marked one. We saw you and Lealos.”

 

Pride suffused her words and her eyes brightened as she bragged, “Ah, Lealos. Magnificent, isn’t he? Did you look at him?”

 

“Yes. I had the honour to heal such a courageous beast.”

 

“ _Thank you._ He is most important to me.” Ivy grinned lightly at him, eyes completely grateful as she tilted her head at him at the care to her wonderful boy, touching his hand in thanks (ignoring how his face softened) but shook her head at the rest of his words, speaking slowly and taking her time with her words, “I am but one woman, Solas.” She dropped her hand and looked away. “I could do _nothing_ but defend Lana by making it want to eat me. Frankly if not for her, _I’d_ likely be dead.” Ivy sighed out at that, running hands over her face and then over her hair and sighed out, “Perhaps it is time for me to find a successor? Maybe I’m just getting old?”

 

Solas scoffed at that rather heartily, and she looked back at him, amused eyes locking onto his. “Ridiculous. You are certainly in your prime. You are the reason she still lives.”

 

“You don’t know how old I am. We helped each other survive. Solas…” She halted a second and then admitted, “She sees me only as part of the Inquisition army while I see her as a daughter.” She paused, and sighed, taking a moment to think as his hand squeezed her shoulder. She put a hand on his and squeezed in thanks but dropped it. “The soldiers are young in understanding, but they have what I need them to have learnt so they survive, even if not mastered.”

 

“The people here will miss you greatly. Your leaving will cause demoralisation, regardless of whether they know what their duty is. For their teacher, or their guardian, or their friend, or whatever they consider you? To simply leave at such a fragile, weak time?” He tried to reason with her, wishing for her to stay in his sight.

         

Her eyebrows raised slightly. “Weak? I awoke to people singing of hope and patience after their town was knackered in half. They are _not weak_.”

 

Solas would not argue that. It was why he had not written this off as one bad movement after another and simply worked on his agents. He was here as this was shaping up to be a good defence against Corypheus. And she was here. The first of his People he’d met after awakening. He could not easily remove himself from her presence, the only one that felt more than just a simulacrum of beings in a world of them. The only female of his People, and one that so instantly melded so incredibly with him unlike any before. He could not ignore her. Not when here presence was the only one that glowed in his eyes. “But they are not strong. You are. Stay, at least until we get to a fortress I know of. It is-”

 

Ivy cut him off with a soft, “North of here.” He blinked at her, cocking his head and she repeated from memory, “ _The Fortress is a few days trek from here to the north. It is placed in a milder area, and it is called Skyhold._ You told me when we went through my invitations for Val Royeaux.” She saw he recalled it now.

 

“You remembered?” A pleased smile hit his face. “I had thought you focused on the letters. You multitask well.”

 

“I’m not so good at multitasking as I am good at swapping complete attention. I figure that must be the one you meant and I remembered because it was the closest. Just in case, you know? You said there weren’t any others that were close enough to be considered habitable. Hm. I agree with you on this.” She pursed her lips, not happy with it but seeing it as logical, practical, and best for most. Even if not for her. “Very well, another month to three, dropping hints of my leaving, and then I go.”

 

He was relieved. “I am glad you will be staying. Perhaps after a month or two, I shall further convince you to stay another month to three again.”

 

The martial artist chuckled and stood. “Good night, Solas. Oh, and thank you for changing and cleaning me. Much obliged.” She bowed at him in the Orlesian fashion even as the pelt flopped open and stood back up, uncaring of her bared breasts from how low the front of his tunic dipped while on her, covering herself with the pelt again and leaving.

 

Let him see what he would be missing.

 

She wasn’t above a bit of baiting of men, ‘unknowingly’ showcasing something a lover as he had seen.

 

He deserved the baiting.

 

She smiled to herself at the tiniest flash she’d caught of his dipping of the eyes and the little frown of concentration on his face as his hand lifted as if to reach for her, close to the tent with her things in it.

 

Ivy would make him regret his words now Cole had-

 

Cole was there as she flipped open the tent door. “He does regret. Every second he sees you and is unable to take you into his arms in front of the others he regrets, wanting your touch and affection and lips on his. You make him want to believe in people. In you.”

 

“Then he is foolish for denying himself what I offer.”

 

“Yes. He tries to make things right, but it does not go well, a lot of the time.”

 

Ivy cocked her head at that, bewildered, wondering at what _Solas_ could have possibly failed at. “Do not tell him, let us work it out between us by ourselves. The pain will make or break this.”

 

Cole was unsure what to think, her statement mixed with many emotions, unable to tug at the right one to help. “I won’t tell. You both have pains and compassions mixed together that would break one another if I did.” Ivy looked at him and he nodded at her. “He has asked the same. Yes, I am from the Fade! How did-? Oh, because you know he loves it like you love dragons. You will both always link your lives to what you love. A story, an invitation, a piece of art. I am a Spirit of Compassion. My name is Cole.”

 

Ivy settled back in on the furs with Lealos, who whuffed at her leaving him for even a moment, shuffling so his massive head lay on her lap to keep her there. She grinned and cuddled him around the neck like she was a fleshy necklace, shuffling the pelt around them. A spirit huh? She wasn’t going to touch on that, not now with all this just happening. “Speaking of story, will you tell me one to help me fall asleep? I guess you’d know quite the few, being from the Fade?”

 

Happily he did.

 

Then he realised part way that she asked for one that’d help her sleep and began reciting the story of some fifth age priest on his day to day life and then Ivy blinked, even _more_ awake from absolute confusion of something new to the story and he changed again, only for her to get what he’d done and then begin her own story of no change, which boggled him because the Fade always changed.

 

Something Solas walked in on, expecting her to be alone and sleeping and for Cole to not be there. His eyes snapped to her chest that was mostly brazenly bared of its curves but for her hardened nipples due to the low slung neckline of his tunic and felt a snippet of dark jealousy coil, but then listened to what they were talking about and had to blink. His jealousy was entirely gone when he heard-

 

“But it’s the Fade, it can’t-”

 

“Nope. Stone didn’t change.”

 

“But everything changes in the Fade!”

 

“That’s the change then, isn’t it?”

 

Cole was confused and frustrated that he couldn’t change this imaginary stone. “It’s the Fade!”

 

“But I don’t want it to change and it won’t. You can’t make it or command it to. I declare the stone to only move when I wish it! My will is greater than yours.”

 

“It is greater! But it’s in the way of the water, and the water must quench the thirst of the people in the story!”

 

“Sorry, Cole. No change. Stone stays.”

 

The elf chuckled lowly. “Lady Hunter, you are cruel.” Blue eyes looked over to him and winked, making him shake his head with a smile. “You tease him like a parent to their child. Cole, she is playing. We all know the Fade submits to change.”

 

“Are you?” Cole demanded of Ivy, but looking more like a growling puppy.

 

“I am playing. Cole, the people of the story get their water. And their ecosystem, and their food and expansion of life. Much expansion.” She waggled her brows at him, but Cole didn’t seem to get that visual concept. She gave a shrug at Solas as if to say ‘what can you do?’ and remarked, “Eh, we’ll teach him. Well, you can.”

 

“That lots of sex is good? Oh, like you have with Solas! It makes you both very happy to have such affection with each other! It’s one of the best part of your days!” He paused as they stared at him bluntly saying that. “Does that mean much expansion of life from you two?”

 

“Uh, _no._ ”

 

“But you wanted many children? So does Solas.”

 

“Aha… It, uh… It doesn’t work that way. Fine, you win the story, go, shoo. Let me sleep.”

 

Cole frowned, suspicious of that. “You do not get much sleep when around Solas.”

 

“Okay!” Ivy said with an exasperated laugh as the elf smirked to himself at her face. “You can go now!” Cole bowed to them and left. “He did do that last one on purpose, right?”

 

“I feel we shall never know.”

 

Ivy stared at him and couldn’t help the quirk of her lips, knowing he was waiting for it. “Want loads of kids, do you?”

 

He replied in amused exasperation, “ _Must_ we?”

 

“I just think it’s adorable,” The Scot smiled to herself and then snickered at his exasperated sigh, leaning back on Lealos and looking up at the top of the tent.

 

“Do you now?” He asked rhetorically, but blinked when she replied softly, listening intently.

 

“They’ll all be dreamers, and you’d have to get them out of odd places in the Fade.”

 

“Oh?” He didn’t wish to show his intrigue of the woman he wanted having his children _telling_ of his could be children.

 

She began in a Welsh accent, “ _Miri, where’s your sister_ – Ophelia’s eating the apples of Arlathan agaaain, papa! _Why would you- you know those upset her stomach, and where’s Theodore? Shouldn’t he be looking after you both?_ Up in the tree again, reading, ignoring the stupid greed demon and also munching on one of those apples. _He gave it to her so he could be left to his peace, didn’t he?_ Uh huh. Can we find a unicorn, papa?!” Ivy had fun with voices then she tilted her head to him, seeing his amused look. “And that’d be just the first three.” She held three fingers up, wiggling them.

 

He quirked an eyebrow in enjoyment at her fond grin.

 

“The next will be firecracker triplets you’d have to use magic and tag them with it just to figure out who is who because they’re so identical even your elf sight would have difficulty.”

 

He laughed at that. “You have quite an imagination,” He complimented.

 

“Mhm. It’s fun.” Ivy was quiet then instead of continuing to babble on as she normally would. She was trying to pull away from really liking him. She cuddled into Lealos, preparing for a full nights’ sleep, the hart nuzzling back and covering her as much he could with his head. “Good night, lads.” The hart keened out.

 

“On’nydha, Lethallan.”

 

The elf heard nothing, and craved more communication, ears perked up for more of anything from her other than soft breathes of sleep.

 

It was too quiet.

 

He looked down at a book he kept, the one of dragons. He picked it up and lay it on his lap, opening it carefully.

 

“Flickers of paper, but not of pages.”

 

It was all the multitudes of notes he got from her, their conversations and flirtations and curiosity of one another.

 

“Yes, Cole. That is true.”

 

Solas wondered if she kept his on her.

 

“They are always there, in her favourite book. Solas. Why do you hold yourself back? You-”

 

“No. I will not speak of it.”

 

“She misses you.”

 

“As do I.”

 

“I do not understand,” He said hesitantly, turning to her. “She’s right there.”

 

Solas swallowed. “That, Cole, makes it so very much more difficult.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be. She doesn’t understand. She adores you and just wants to be with you. She’d do a lot for you.”

 

Solas closed his eyes.

 

So did he.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

 

Body aching, Ivy wrangled on her clean modified ‘In Death, Sacrifice’ clothing while lying down and disinclined to get up properly, touching the chest plate she’d changed to a dragon bone one with a Highland Ravager in flight-fight with a Kaltenzahn back in Val Royeaux. The clothing was of dragon hide burnished orange and gold colours instead of cobalt and silver, and was replaced with dragon webbing for maximum protection without taking away any flexibility. A sigil glinted on each strap of the chest plate, one of Deathroot and another of Chevalier and her weapons all had superb dragon slaying runes in them. Considering not getting hit was part of her style – what with the chance that a dragon could easily kill her in one lucky hit – and she came from Orlais, it was almost expected she would have them.

 

She’d have to get more crafted for her next weapon.

 

Damn hard to find a new crafter good enough in sigil implementing; the last woman who made them for her was dead from her propensity to eat poisonous things on a dare.

 

Bah. It was like regretting not getting those second pair of jeans even though they were a perfect fit and you’d not get something so excellent in quite a while because hey, you already had some. Then they ripped somehow and bam, no chance to get more and _damnit I should’a got more_.

 

Ivy stared at her snoring hart before warmly smiling and getting onto her knees. He huffed and rolled onto his back and she pet his cold nose. It made the hart wake up and then wiggle, scratching his back on the floor. “I owe you much attention when we get to this Skyhold.”

 

He bleated, happy, and rolled onto her lap.

 

She groaned at his heaviness but laughed and flopped back. “You big baby.”

 

He bleated again, like he did when he was only a couple months old, shuffling around and making her groan again.

 

Solas watched on fondly as he sat against a support beam, top half naked, book in lap and free hand holding a mug of something warm. “On’dhea.”

 

She paused and then turned to him, with Lealos glowering over her shoulder at him. “Never has an elf ever said good morning to me in their language. On’dhea, Solas. Huh. From this Orleivhen, on’dhea.” Then she stared at him and twisted to her front, crawling over to him on hands and knees, smirking at the utter attention he suddenly paid her. She slunk over his crossed legs and lightly sat on his lap, a smile on her face as he hurriedly put things to the side. Her face ducked to his neck, kissing it lightly and she breathed him in as her nose travelled upwards. “Ar on’odhe.” Then she licked up his neck, hard. “And you taste good too.”

 

“V- _Ivy_.”

 

Then she got up, looked him over with a smirk and then left, clicking her tongue to get Lealos to stand up, and with a bit of work with directing her harts’ dangerous antlers, Solas was left alone in the tent.

 

The elf looked to the letters he had to send out.

 

Then at his hardening groin, the coolness of a breeze against the slick of her tongue up his neck bringing more attention to his needs as the pulse of his main need throbbed harder.

 

Perhaps he would let his agents wait a few moments longer?

 

This was when Ivy would see she was needed.

 

He got up and opened the tent flap slightly, watching.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

 

Ivy strode to the main fire of the camp, intending to help however she could.

 

Then the applause began by Kid, then by her Elite hunters as Arcturus winked and smiled at her, and then the others joined in and the crowd was cheering.

 

It was overwhelming.

 

Her widened eyes looked around at them all standing up and raising their wooden steins to her.

 

“ _Hun-ter! Hun-ter! Hun-ter!_ ”

 

She had a clear line of vision to where she’d slept and saw her still half naked elf lover staring back at her.

 

Solas nodded to her, proud, frank, _knowing_.

 

_We saw you and Lealos._

 

Ever remembering of her lessons from her father, Ivy turned back and bowed lowly to them all, fist held in hand in the Chinese way of martial artists, Lealos following her bow. “I am honoured.”

 

Delaware slapped her on the back and handed her a stein with a laugh. “A drink on us!”

 

“How can I resist?! Let’s neck it back! Ready?”

 

Cheers were her reply.

 

“Ready!”

 

“Drink!”

 

Knocking it back, she watched as the others did and then asked Delaware lowly, “Booze was a priority, was it?”

 

“It would have burnt the buildings hotter.”

 

“Sure, sure.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to put the last song I listened to as a title to the chapter as I couldn't think of anything decent, but something eventually came to mind and I don't think 'Where is My Mind?' really fits this one haha
> 
> Next up, Skyhold, baby!


	17. Senses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title: Moving Along.

 

 

 

**Chapter Seventeen**

 

 

 

Skyhold was incredible to behold.

 

Ivy was third to see it, grin widening her lips with a happy Lealos by her side as she took it in, always loving to see these old places looking so darn magnificent.

 

“Can I borrow Lealos and run down the hill?”

 

The human looked at the excited twenty-year-old and then to Lealos. “Well, beautiful boy? Want to have a charge down a hill through snow with our unofficial Inquisitor?”

 

He keened out in joy, dancing on his hooves.

 

“You’re in luck.” Ivy gave a half smile to the elf woman and then fully grinned at her hart. “Lealos, take care not to go too fast and buck off our elf, she _is_ far lighter than I.” When she clambered on, Lealos nuzzled his owner and whined, liking only her on him. “I know, baby. But go have some _fun!_ ” He keened at her cheeky tone and charged as she slapped his rump.

 

Ellana shrieked at his immense speed, clutching to whatever she could, the wail echoing down the way.

 

Ivy turned to the other elf. “N’awww.”

 

Solas laughed and then shook his head, remarking, “You did that on purpose.”

 

“Of course!” She said shamelessly.

 

Cassandra came up by them with Cullen and snorted. “Never let it be said that just because you are born elf you have talent with halla and hart.” She heard a another wail and smirked. “Hmph. How _embarrassing.”_

 

Ivy snickered, knocking her hip into the Pentaghast’s. “Isn’t it just?”

 

“Good job, sister.” Cassandra pat her shoulder.

 

Ivy laughed into the great bear pelt around her and followed the trail Lealos left behind. “Ah, she’s just having some fun. C’mon Cass, follow the sway of my arse like you enjoy always doing.”

 

Cullen ducked his head when he snorted and Cassandra glowered before turning it on a louder laughing Ivy hoping to save Cullen from her glares.

 

The Orlesian winked, giggled and jogged down the hill, dodging a flurry of sudden snowballs with a yelped out laugh.

 

“Ugh, you never change, hunter!” Still the Seeker smiled to herself and did so, going after her with another being made and squawking as she dodged Ivy’s two.

 

Cullen sighed to himself happily, proud, remarking to the elf and himself as Solas followed the women with his own contented look, “We’ve a good family here, and now a home.” The elf looked back curiously as Cullen rubbed the back of his neck for a moment but then turned to him with strength in his eyes. “Thank you, Solas. They’re relieved. As are the rest of our people. We have somewhere to _live._ ”

 

_Our people._

 

The apostate looked at him, understanding what he didn’t say, paused at the thought that others did consider him part of this, part of the whole that gave back.

 

A sting of guilt hit him.

 

They took him _in_.

 

Trusted him.

 

“You are welcome, Cullen.”

 

A nod, and the man followed the women, intent on making sure their Herald wasn’t harmed too badly from a… _characterful_ hart.

 

Resolution hit him then, protective of these people no matter the lack of feeling he got from them.

 

He would look after them until Corypheus passed.

 

They deserved his best until that time.

 

Solas simply hoped he would not grow too attached to them like he had one other.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

From the corner of her eye, Ivy watched as Lana blushed as Cullen smiled at her as he said something, eyes heated as the crowds departed from Ellana Lavellan being named Inquisitor and she’d come down to him.

 

Oh?

 

The Herald said something that made the man go red but seem pleased regardless.

 

She grinned widely at the cuteness, actually kind of _excited_ by it for her, and looked at Solas by her side with said look. It got a chuckle and covert squeeze of the waist in agreement and a brush of his lips to her jawline as if he were murmuring something in her ear to outside eyes before he left to go to that circular room he liked the feel of, looking content, soft smile on lips.

 

Or something like that.

 

He seemed attached to it.

 

Shaking her head and off to go back to training the troops, Ivy peeked over her shoulder at the duo, seeing the two give toffee eyes to each other as they parted to attend to their duties.

 

How wonderful!

 

Then her eyes went to the disappearing back of Solas, and the thought that a potential biological kid of their own, grown up, would be getting their own partner in life and knowing love, with them watching on as parents and doing the exact same made her flush at the thought.

 

Ivy was glad he didn’t see that one.

 

He’d relentlessly tease her, she was sure.

 

But Cole did, and Solas had to later on smile at the thought to himself.

 

He truly was ready to be a father.

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ivy watched as Iron Bull lifted a huge crate, flexing on purpose and sending a smirk her way.

 

She turned to Krem with a, “Daaaaamn!” causing him to snort.

 

“He’s showing off. Like a strutting peacock.”

 

Dorian spoke up from behind them, “I’ll have you know peacocks are elegant, graceful creatures. Have you ever seen one fly and land? Marvellous beings! That? That is just a brute.” He sniffed, his magic lifting cargo.

 

“You know you like it!” Bull called back, teasing in his voice as the Vint spluttered at that, denying it all. “I’ll do it a little more for you!” He laughed at the Vint’s squawk of indignation.

 

Ivy and Krem burst into snickers and followed with their own crated loads while a narrow eyed Solas in the temporary healer area bandaging a wounded soldier watched on, having seen the qunari’s eye linger on her.

 

Not yet.

 

He couldn’t let go of the possibility of them go just yet.

 

Not if he could potentially tell her his plans.

 

He just had to see if she wouldn’t outright kill him for it, which there was an actual chance she would.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

 

It was a couple nights later Ivy was snoozing on Solas, both of them naked from bedroom activities.

 

He’d been lounging on his side and propped up on an elbow, chin in hand, as she was curled but sitting up on his hip, arms hugging his thigh and arse, cheek on thigh, with him slowly running a hand up and down her thigh absently as he thought. He was enjoying her covered in his smell, dripping with his essence, red with his bites.

 

It satisfied something primitive in him when he left her like this.

 

He adored that she succumbed to his gentle fingers, was so sensitive to all his actions and always enthused for the next round, eyes bright and intent on him and forgetting anything else _but_ him.

 

Knowing she wanted him as he wanted her was glorious.

 

His eyes snapped to the side when he felt magic, fist up and inflamed with powerful magic but stilled when he saw Cole. He instantly tugged the cover over his lover, uncaring of his own state of undress or that the Spirit would not have any interest in any of these matters of the flesh. “Cole. You are not welcome here in such moments between us,” He told him sternly.

 

“The Inquisitor wanted to apologize. Ivy would want to know this. You could be found. You do not want this.”

 

“It is enough you know.” Solas paused. “Has Ivy told anyone of this?”

 

“No. She likes having you to herself. _Sly, hot touches they don’t know of; how do they not see it dancing between us? It’s so there. Are we that good, or are they that blind?_ ”

 

Indeed.

 

Even he wondered that.

 

“Me too.”

 

Right. His eyes flickered to the hunters’ face. “Vhenan, wake up.” He stroked her jaw. Then he stilled before sighing. He mentally cursed the slip up, but did not take it back.

 

The truth was out there now.

 

“Mn? Gimme an hour, then we go again, hm? Need sleep, lover.” She slumped down slowly before him, curling into a ball beside him and sighing contently when he wrapped an arm around her waist, face nuzzling into her neck. “S’nice…”

 

It was more than nice, feeling her sleek body against his. He was disinclined to let her go right now. “Unfortunately for me, you are wanted elsewhere, vhenan.”

 

Vhenan? She felt like she’d heard that back in the Dalish camp but couldn’t quite place it. “Always am, lover.” She turned on her back to get closer to his body, only for his arm to cover her breasts possessively without caressing them as he always did. “…Eh?” She looked up at him but he merely stayed looking up and she followed his gaze. Immediately she shifted to turn completely into Solas, hands on his pecs, hiding her already covered body by smushing her full breasts into his chest, his fingers tightening on her. “Uh, Cole? Bit of a private a moment you’re intruding on…” She laughed uneasily, settling when Solas put his chin to her temple and cuddled her to him, unblinking, predatory eyes on the male.

 

Cole felt Solas’ magic flaring warningly. “The Inquisitor looks for you in the library. She wishes to apologize. She talked to Leliana and understands Orlesian mothers now. She wants it.” He disappeared.

 

“Aha…” The martial artist ran a hand over her face, entirely pleased with that. “Guess I am then, huh? Now to go hug my new kid. Excuse-moi, Solas.”

 

“Of course,” He murmured, feeling cold and bereft as she cleaned, dressed, and left with only a nod to say goodbye.

 

Something he’d have to get used to.

 

She was moving away from him.

 

His stomach turned at the thought of it, fingers gripping the covers.

 

No, enough of this.

 

Time to get to his spies and agents on lock and more orders pushed out.

 

He then pursed his lips, knowing that was something Ivy was likely to say.

 

On lock.

 

Blue eyes traced the last place he saw her.

 

…Was it really the right thing to do when he felt so greatly?

 

Could he risk the chance? 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

Ivy was with her men a few weeks later, shifting yet more stone bricks that could be reused onto sturdy carriages, sweat dripping down her back. They’d all been hard at work for hours of the day in the immense fortress that dug so damn deep into the mountain it could hold dwarves that wouldn’t be considered surfacers if the underground deep roads and thaigs connected to here, and had been working extra hard today. Seeing that finally the place would be cleaned up from all debris and mostly restored had pressed them to completing this exhausting job today. All training but for four hours in the morning had stopped, both helping the men focus their minds other than on the horror that was battle and then working them to exhaustion, followed by a hearty meal and a couple drinks in the very quickly built up tavern to help them sleep.

 

She didn’t much know how to deal with PTSD, knowing most needed different things, but one thing she knew they needed was time. This time, right now, was important. The workout helped them focus on now, and the hard, strenuous work emptied their brains from everything but the ceiling beam that would keep their people covered or next large brick of their defences that would keep them all safe. Cullen and Ivy kept repeating things like that, slowly getting them out of battle mode, but still in protection mode; gave them something to work for without the bloodshed and screams of pain. It’s the only thing she could think of.

 

Slowly easing them out of it was good, right?

 

Naturally any of them that were good at other things, such as healing or herb planting or caretaking of mounts, did so. There were refugees coming in all the time, but they were set to work to help all and given some sort of duty, with the Sisters and couple Mothers of the Chantry making sure all in need had warmth and healing and food and the Chant of Light.

 

They were finally done cleaning. Hundreds of troops had cleared the whole of the fortress which did go deep into the mountain. Now was the time for the builders to work on the rest of the things they had to do, decorators to come in, plumbers to complete their job. Specifically, plumbers that she herself had gotten to come in with one of her artistes, Figaro. He was an excellent mechanically-minded human lad, had been thrilled at the potential of the job, and utterly joyful with a piece of paper in hand that allowed him use of funds of the Household had brought in some of the more eager people he knew as well as high-quality tools.

 

Good.

 

Her orange-haired co-worker came over, pretty brown eyes on her. “Up for a smallest bit more of work?”

 

Ivy looked down at her clothing, arm guards, gloves, a crappy work shirt that buttoned up to a high neck and breeches, all gross and dusty and sweaty. Sighing, she looked up at Delaware. “Well, I’m already disgusting, might as well keep it up.”

 

“Atta woman!” He laughed and nodded to a carriage full of things. “In light of needing our people on shelter and cooking and plumbing, because our bodies require such frivolous things,” Delaware snorted, making her snicker at him, “Our education has been put to the wayside. Who needs learning when you have a sword?” He joked, making her laugh as they got there. “As you can see, we kept them protected but, until now, it’s rained. Someone needs to put them away now we have the break from it and the rotunda has the library.” He guided her to a huge box.

 

“Sure, sure. Alright, and on three; one, two, heave!” They both groaned at the weight of the heaviest one with an, “Aw, fucking hell,” and, “Maker’s fucking ball sack, _why_ ,” coming from them and then set onto path. It was a few minutes as they went up the stairs huffing and puffing and into the Entrance Hall before she asked through gritted teeth, “Exactly what books did we get?”

 

“I think this is the first of eight of Chantry books.”

 

“Eight?! Are you serious?” Ivy grunted, glad she wore gloves as Varric snickered and opened the door for them. “Can it, undwarf.”

 

“This _is_ going to be the _Inquisition’s_ official library,” Delaware mentioned with slight mocking as they went into the rotunda, “You know, that _Chantry_ based thing we’re apart of?”

 

Ivy grunted, shifting the weight, and said sarcastically, “Well colour me surprised!”

 

“At that _enlightening_ information?”

 

Ivy groaned at Solas’s unfortunately good timing from above them as they passed. “I forgot you were in here now.” She looked up, seeing the beginnings of a painting he was working on. “Well hey, I never thought you also painted rather than just had an interest in artwork. I could have gotten Figaro to bring in art supplies for you.”

 

“I have means of getting my own superior provisions.”

 

Ivy gave a fake gasp. “Superior? To Orlesian craft? Why I never!”

 

“I apologize for _blaspheming._ ”

 

She snorted in amusement, only to groan and smack her head to the box at the stupid pun. “Oh, for-”

 

“-The love of God?” Solas slyly said, knowing only he would get the double pun.

 

Ivy glowered up at him, partly grimacing. “You need to stop.”

 

“Oh, no no,” Delaware grinned, looking between the two friends before they got to the stairs. “After you outwitting us men to get the army how you want it, I’m highly enjoying you being outwitted.”

 

Lana came in at this point.

 

Ivy dropped her side of the box, making Delaware grunt. “I’m done. Lana, you can take over the library. I need a bath.”

 

“To wash off your sins?” Solas painted a line carefully, unable to help himself smirking as he followed his brush with careful eyes.

 

Ivy groaned again and went off to go get a smaller box as Lana picked her side up, or tried to.

 

“It’s so heavy! How in the-?!”

 

“ _Heavens_ did she pick it up?” The elf asked, widely smirking over at Ivy who whimper-moaned in her throat and left, mentally patting himself on the back because he knew she’d get him back when in bed.

 

He looked forward to it.

 

“Huh. Nice sound,” Delaware mentioned.

 

Solas slowed on mixing his paint, listening with suddenly sharp ears and trying not to let loose his magic.

 

Lana gave him a look. “She is single.”

 

Solas closed his eyes for a brief second. _Why, Ellana? Why say that?_

 

“Is she now?” The third in command of troops asked. “Interesting.”

 

Leliana leaned over the library balcony railing at that, staring at Lana. “Not from some potential rumours I heard from Orlais.”

 

Solas momentarily paused and looked over at the woman slightly up and opposite him.

 

_Pardon?_

 

Lana was the one to say, “ _What?_ She totally would have introduced us in Val Royeaux!”

 

Mentally, the painter agreed.

 

“This is why I have trouble believing them, but, they persist. They have no founding, but there are whispers that Empress Celene favoured her for a reason other than her skill. She does prefer the female touch, which is why Gaspard is her Heir Presumptive. Then there _was_ that unmentioned time Celene took her privately to her collection. No one knows what for! Ivy’s lips have been sealed! It is all so very intriguing!” The Orlesian said enthusiastically, gleeful at this happening before her.

 

Yes, the recap that Solas was unable to get that bit of information from her was most unwelcome a reminder.

 

Lana, ran a hand through long locks of wavy hair and whistled, impressed. “We could have royalty living here?”

 

“Unfortunately, our contract with her is finished, but if we could get a contract renewed with the potential wife or other lover of the Empress? Our alliance with Orlais and all the benefits that come with it would be secured for years. The Chantry would be pushed to fully accept us, the trade would be cheaper, beneficial to both sides from the vast lands we both cover, and so much more. And the cheaper shoes we could import…” Leliana sighed happily, head in hand at the thought of all the pretty shoes she missed out on from not being in Orlais.

 

“So the growth of the Inquisition would be faster? We’d be safer?” Lana asked, getting this back on track.

 

The spymaster nodded. “We do benefit from her simply being here, especially now as Champion of Orlais, but an Empress Consort residing here? At the home of the Inquisition? Who is the Inquisition that our greatest hunter lives here, the people of Orlais now think? People will travel from all over to visit us just to see – and their money and support, too.”

 

“She will be leaving soon enough, though I am trying to persuade her to stay here.”

 

“Leaving?” Leliana said sharply, eyes narrowed. “You know this for certain, Solas?”

 

Solas gave her a look. “We are close friends that lived together whilst in Haven, spymaster. We have had many a conversation. Of course I know. She told me. She will be here a maximum of five to six weeks longer.”

 

“Then we must find ways of keeping her here. Please keep me informed of this, Solas.”

 

“I will; it benefits us all that Ivy does.”

 

Ivy listened from the outside and closed her eyes both in relief and trouble for a moment. They didn’t know the full offer. Good. She silently left, heading to the baths without anyone inside knowing she’d overheard. She’d first stopped because of Delaware’s flirtatious comment and was hoping for more signs so she could tease him and potentially give a chance as well as to move on from liking Solas, especially now they weren’t living together and it would be easier, but then it went onto this with Leliana and... ugh.

 

The woman huffed to herself and strode to her private rooms, grabbing her pre-made wash-bag.

 

She needed to get over him – another man would help with that, she knew what she personally was like. Forget the old with something new; that’s how it worked with all the others in her life. Then she could clear her head and get on with her life. It wasn’t the first time it happened here and it wouldn’t be the last.

 

But _damn_ did she wish it didn’t have to be that way.

 

Ivy nodded to herself as she arrived to the women’s bath, uncaring it was at the end of the day and this was the time the elves seemed to have theirs. They stared wide eyed as she walked in and she paused, looking back at the females and raising a brow as they looked down and away. Then she looked at the terrible water. It made her stare, only for her to go and find a couple mages and drag them back, explaining what she wanted of them. The elf mages nodded, their command of ice and fire best. The first directed the elven women out, flaring the dirty water out and away before making more in the bath, frozen.

 

_Waves and tides and tsunami’s and a song plays-_

 

The artist blinked slowly.

 

The other elf looked at Ivy, who nodded, and she warmed the ice to a perfect temperature.

 

_Spinning and whirling and out of control and-_

 

Ivy interrupted it. “Do this nightly until the plumbing is completed. If any of the visiting dignitaries or nobles or anyone complains of you doing your job of helping our staff, you are to direct them to _me._ ”

 

The mages smiled at the tone of vengeance and nodded.

 

“In fact. There should be a mandatory bathing time for all and a bath group to deal with all that comes with it, soap-making, towels, water-cleaning, the lot. Get that sent onto Lana and Josephine now, please? Make sure to add it’s a mixture of humans and elves to do that too. That any of our staff is left to wash in such conditions is not tolerated from now on. Emphasise my displeasure.”

 

“Yes, Champion.” They chimed and left.

 

“You can get in now,” Ivy stated to the other elves as they stood there, only to strip and dip into the large bath herself. When it came to the whole elves being the scum in the world, she was far too blunt to entertain their winces and flinches and fear. Her way was a force of nature like her beloved dragons; get with the program and fall into formation or get burnt. Yes, she felt sorry for their place in life, but she wasn’t about to hold herself back because of their delicate natures. They either learnt what she was truly like and stayed or they didn’t and left. As she cleaned up some slowly did join her, unsure, while many more left, not trusting this as some sort of trick. She simply washed her hair with scentless soap, only using fragrances or oils for when she had to primp for some sort of meeting or another. Other than that, she disliked any scent on her.

 

Dragons would get a whiff of it and their fight or flight would kick in.

 

The Hunter missed feeling pretty just because she had no threat on her life like back on Earth, but with the multiple burns and slices on her body as battle-scars? Yeah. She couldn’t afford to have even the slightest disadvantage.

 

Ivy got out quickly, realising she’d likely have to go help with the books or Delaware would give her looks to annoy. She dried off, throwing on smalls, a warm earthy green winter dress with long sleeves and high neck with an orange bow around her neck that dangled prettily and her House Clan scarf around her waist that flapped down beyond the ending of the dress that cut off at her knees. There were breeches thin enough to look good underneath but not thick enough to be considered trousers.

 

And her new boots.

 

This time they were Orlesian ones that dared to bare ankles with a cute, large dragon hide bow at the front in a bold Kaltenzahn orange and a decent Orlesian (Louis style) heel on them that was dragon fang that were pretty enough that Leliana would _sigh_ in envy.

 

Admittedly, that was another thing Leliana and herself had in common – the love of Orlesian shoes.

 

She’d gotten them ordered in last week from a delivery from a certain wine growing noble’s wife who also received extra material for a pair, as well as a large crate load of wine from said noble in thanks for pleasing his wife. Vivienne had nudged her, saying it was only right the Champion look like a noble for when the dignitaries would be coming in to visit very shortly. Naturally, despite Ivy not being the best of friends with the mage, she’d ordered in some of the rarer pieces for her alchemy works for the woman.

 

It was the Orlesian way.

 

Vivienne was most grateful to her, looking very pleased at such quality pieces.

 

And with herself of course.

 

Vivienne did for Vivienne, after all.

 

Still, she had to wonder of hearing magic.

 

What did that _mean?_

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking, hearing, understanding - all the Senses, baby. Again couldn't think of a decent title so any better ones that come to your mind other than these two, then throw me a comment. Might like it enough to put it up there. Who knows?
> 
> Thanks for all the outstanding comments. You guys are super. Yeah, super. Just that. Ha! Now for a drink and a snooze. Allons-y moi! Gereonimo! Fantastisch! (9 is fav, just saying)
> 
> So, people, hearing magic, dreaming of the past that never happened, the little flame inside - what does it mean?


	18. Sharing

 

 

 

 

**Chapter Eighteen**

 

Ivy left the baths after the time with the confusing elves, made her way to her private rooms on the other side of the throne room. The front side of the fortress had the more relaxed side – guests rooms, the tavern, gardens, and then the fortress proper with the war room and library and Inquisitors room. However, that was only the front third. The back was inside the mountain and also had far less stone fortifications than the mountain-less front had, but a lot more magical fortifications instead, in which the mages had mostly been here researching and working on the magic, along with Solas, Dorian and Vivienne and Fiona heading them. This was where the many troops and servants slept and trained, where supplies were kept and was the last third of the place. The middle third was where seamstresses, kitchen staff, blacksmiths and herbalists worked, and where Ivy had taken a little segment of the fortress for her own.

 

For the sake of continual battlements around the area, there were two protective towers on either side of the mountain entrance to the work population of Skyhold. One was pretty much hers, and the other belonged to the other three trainers of the troops. It seemed Vivienne had a talk with the other heads of the army, as they’d stated they’d very much not want to get in the way of Orlesian women. Ivy had her private rooms at the top with a balcony that overlooked part of the open mountain, away from the road. It was good because she could track changes in the wind and thus keep a look out for her favoured winged beast quite well.

 

The next level was her own personal… Champion Headquarters, so to speak?

 

It was a room with fainting couches, many chaise-longue, bookshelves and other amenities to appease waiting visitors and partly closed off with a desk and chair and fireplace like Josephine’s had. It rather seemed Vivienne had taken over on this, becoming her personal assistant. Not that she minded Vivienne trying to get in with her. Let her have her fineries in court and in Skyhold; The Enchanter was helping the Dragon Hunter greatly by boasting and bragging in subtle ways about her Champion even if it was a means to an end for her own continued pleasures. There were Orlesian decorations all over the tower, pretty and well put together, suited to Vivienne’s tastes but also with a lot of dragon heraldry and House Clan colours put in to appease Ivy. It worked for them.

 

Below that was a private library for guests of Ivy and made to cater to Orlesian’s (and which Vivienne was hinting that should also have a smaller version of her dragon tour in which she didn’t mind that idea at all), and another underneath was for Leliana to live in who quite happily shared with close friend Josephine and there was another for Vivienne below that who’d wanted her own level. Each had their own private stairwell to their level that joined to the battlements and so could take anyone to their room without the others seeing. The two towers at the back both had this, and Ivy had the feeling this was where people of import usually stayed and brought their bits on the side up so others didn’t see.

 

All in the tower liked how it was, feminine and powerful and daunting.

 

No one had yet dared to venture, but it was early days.

 

She grabbed a bottle of wine, putting it in a bag she used to carry things around here – the fortress was big, after all. Not like Haven with a short few minutes’ walk from the troops camp to her cabin. Of course, she did have a room on a further point from the entrance gates. She actually had to walk a good ten minutes across halls and up multiple sets of stairs just to get from the throne room to her private rooms and from the stables it would be nearer fifteen.

 

Thirty odd minutes, to and from her room?

 

Yeah.

 

_Bags._

 

Next was a bottle opener, followed by some letters she had to read, and then a bulk of parchment and her large box of writing equipment.

 

She _could_ help with the books but she’d much prefer to offer support from afar.

 

Chantry books?

 

Yikes.

 

“No, thank you,” She murmured to herself and left, making her way to the library and going through the letters. It was only early, and she hadn’t been long, so there were still sounds of books moving about as she went in via the rotunda. She winked at Solas at his desk and she grinned when he was unable to help look over her, smirking at the bright orange parts of her clothing. She gave a small grin, grasped her letters firmly in one hand while the other rose part of her dress in the other and she did a neat little twirl for him and winked playfully before she went upstairs, feeling his appreciative eyes on her behind. She spied a few people she knew sorting out the books; Delaware, Dorian and Cassandra, surprisingly. “Having fun, people?”

 

Delaware gave her a look, “I am sure we could use help.”

 

Ivy sighed, fake and put on, replying, “But I have so much fan mail to respond to that I’m overwhelmed!” and walking over to a desk next to a window. “Have fun!”

 

“Bah,” Cassandra murmured to herself, throwing her sister an annoyed look before rolling her eyes and getting back to it.

 

“We can’t have her scraping those pretty shoes now she’s finally in fitting things to her station,” Dorian fussed, mind on the look.

 

“Exactly! Thank you, Dorian, darling!”

 

“I am ever your aesthetic, dear lady.”

 

Ivy laughed to herself. “Remember to let me share some of my wine one day you really need it.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Empress Celene’s favoured vineyard red.” She knew the drink of the Empress would have him pleased to bits.

 

“Oh, I may be in such need today then! That brute of a Qunari in the tavern has been eyeing me grotesquely each time I’m there. One needs a drink each time after that.”

 

“One I’m sure you already take.”

 

Dorian sighed happily. “The lady knows me well.”

 

It was a couple hours later they stopped putting books away, and another hour until her stomach gurgled loudly.

 

A quiet elf cleaning shelves looked around. “Can I… get you anything t-to eat, Champion?”

 

She did have to answer these letters, and there was a quarter of a final rewriting of an essay to do that she wanted done before sleeping. There was a date it was due before the Chancellor of the University would leave for a months’ vacation in Antiva and would respond to no one. He took it every three years, though there were gaps he was gone for a couple weeks. “You heard, huh? Only if you’re free, otherwise I can go without.”

 

“You h-helped us wi-with the baths…”

 

“So, right, you’d like to help back. Sure. Okay, that’d be lovely, thank you. Uh, wait.” She scribbled a note down on some scrap parchment and then handed it over. “So no one gives you hassle. And a wine glass too, please.” The elf curtseyed and went away swiftly. It seemed like barely a few minutes passed when she heard the scuffling sounds of feet near to her and looked up, surprised. “Oh, wow, that was quick! Thank you.” The elf stood there unsurely, but quite happy to follow the next order. “That’s all, thanks. Here.” She handed the woman some silver. “Go rest, hm?”

 

“Th-Thank you so much, My Lady!” Another curtsey and she was gone.

 

Ivy smiled and went back to work, idly taking a mouthful of stew every once in a while, and when she finished the essay she pushed her tray away and opened her bottle, pouring herself some wine. She mused at the fact she actually enjoyed writing them. She very much recalled her days after becoming fluent in Common Trade and Orlesian and realising how educated she was compared to everyone here and found writing something intellectual actually _gratifying_. Which astonished her, but she was relieved to have something like home. Regardless, she began her letters. She took in a mouthful as she mused at what word to place in the third to last letter when she heard a familiar swish of clothing coming her way and smiled, leaning back in the chair, one leg over the other.

 

Solas saw her reading a letter in her spare hand, sipping at the red from the other as he came around and leant against the bookshelf, looking her over properly to make sure she was well. He smiled, thinking she looked cute in those shoes, would like to kiss those suddenly dainty looking ankles. He silently sighed at himself for such thoughts, but couldn’t help it. He knew well his feelings for her by now. “Is that Dupois’ vintage I see?”

 

“Quite possibly.”

 

He came over, looking at it. “Possibly?”

 

“Well, if it is, that means I have to share.”

 

“Does it?” His hand ran up her jaw to her chin and gently, softly, lifted her face to meet his.

 

She remained still for a second and he felt as if something was coming.

 

Her eyes remained on her letter as a throb of reluctance hit her. “Does it not?”

 

He heard the slighter firmer tone in her voice. “Ivy?”

 

Ivy’s eyes finally met his. “Yes?”

 

Solas watched her for a moment, absently stroking a cheek with a thumb. She was… pulling away from him. His magic and body and heart utterly churned against that, pain in him at the thought. But it was what he wanted. It was only fair on her that she do so when he had rejected her. “You do not have to share what is yours.”

 

She could read between the lines and her eyes shuttered. She took on a bland look. “I know. I do have a bottle with your name on it, however.”

 

That emotionless look… he hated it. And hated even more that he was so relieved there was still a way to her. He was a wretch. Greedy. Didn’t want to share but could not say anything against it. He had chosen his way and to string her along was cruel, heartless, but by the stars he just wished he could make a future for her. One where she was by his side and he’d happily be able to look after her. “Thank you. It is much appreciated.” He paused before he slowly said, “There is a rumour I heard.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“That Empress Celene wishes to marry you.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Ivy hummed, removing her head from his hand and turning to her work. “As you said, I do not have to share what is mine.” They doubled for one other thing - telling him to _back off_ for the first time and hurting them both _._ The woman wanted to take those words back as she saw the anguish on his face but had to maintain control. “That pain on your face? You only do that to yourself, you know. I asked properly once and unofficially another time with this winemaker.” It was… curious, but as he flinched, it felt as though she was remembering saying that before. The next words came out, “It could have been great, but we are only friends, no matter whatever it is that blocks you and now… now I do not want you to do this sort of thing. No touching me as a lover in the open. You don’t _get_ to do that anymore. Just _sex,_ Solas. Remember? And now…”

 

Solas froze, unable to look anywhere else.

 

“Now no more at all.”

 

Everything in her chest squeezed in pain, but she didn’t take the words back.

 

She couldn’t do that to herself and didn’t deserve this type of hurt, so she stopped doing it to herself.

 

Not even when he bowed low, stepped back three times and gave one longing look to her blank visage before he visibly copied, turning away and leaving, not even then did she take it back.

 

“See chest, not a word, now _stop aching so horribly_.”

 

Solas heard the hissed words to herself and felt guiltier than ever, shoulders slumping. Every pain he felt in denying himself, and her, she _did_ feel as greatly as he did.

 

His People only felt it, he’d thought.

 

But he heard and _felt_ the shuddering in breath that signified her trying not to cry as he left.

 

By the _stars_ he hated himself in that moment.

 

He hated the Evanuris, and his duty and himself more and more with every step he took from her.

 

Duty first.

 

His People needed him more than he needed her.

 

Anger gurgled in his stomach at that.

 

It may be the first time he truly hated being of the People, seeing her worth and beginning to see others too. That even though were not magical, they were living, and in all the chances and all the odds against them, they were people, and they were alive. He’d done so much to save the People, to keep them alive and well with Mythal, to free them… and to have to deny himself from Ivy inwardly infuriated him.

 

To even repudiate his instincts of the simple and very basic want of having a mate to keep them alive?

 

He damned it all in that moment.

 

_Curse the Evanuris._

 

Stepping into the rotunda, where he’d felt most at home in the whole of his fortress, Solas had to leave, feeling wrong here when she was there and he wasn’t right with her and she wasn’t right with him. He sighed heavily, pained and simply wanting to have the softer, kinder part of his life sorted out and happy and satisfied. He swiftly obtained some bottles from the servants and went to his private library to drown himself in drink to forget her words.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

Solas walked into the rotunda the next morning, magic healing his hangover, intent on painting the last of the events so far.

 

A bottle of red wine sat upon his desk with a note, stilling him. It took him a moment to get himself together and then he went over to pluck the note up with her handwriting on it, fun and bubbly with,

 

_Enjoy,_

 

On it.

 

He gently lifted the bottle.

 

Dupois.

 

The best red he’d ever had.

 

One thing they’d done better than the People, somehow, was the red wine.

 

It would go into safety, unopened, just in case.

 

He held it to himself for a moment and then he left the room, deciding on a private painting instead.

 

Ivy looked down from the Rookery silent, letters in hand.

 

_‘…But I adore you.’_

 

She turned away, hurting.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit. Ivy just put down the limitations... And Solas accepted them.
> 
> OH SHIT Y'ALL.


	19. Brother, My Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5.5K words. A longer chapter for you guys :)

 

 

 

 

 

** Chapter Nineteen **

 

 

Cole came up to her with a hairbrush.

 

“Uh…”

 

“You smiled at a hairbrush. I thought having another one would make you happy.”

 

Ivy took it with a smile as she pushed her beer away from her. It was a bad brew, but she and Dorian admitted to having terrible taste in which they sorta, kinda, really liked it. Upstairs of the tavern was always quiet, and still dusty for it. She wanted the background noise but none of the conversation and simply relaxed in the attic before Cole had found her up here, a little spot he himself favoured. A memory of her little sisters came upon her as she turned the brush over in her hands, each lining up for their hair to be brushed and giggling at the pretty bows Ivy put in them. Her mother always shuffled them onto her in the mornings to get ready for school before she left to live in China.

 

They’d be twenty-seven or twenty-eight now.

 

_Gods._

 

Cole gasped and earnestly looked at her, his hands on her knees and getting right in her face. “When you think it, I can see it! From before! Triplet sisters! They loved you doing their hair, and you loved doing it because you felt _too tomboyish, always fighting, always training, always competing- can’t I just enjoy softness sometimes? Why do you have to think I’m just like a guy because I like to fight!_ I know!” Cole pushed her legs apart and plonked between them on a lower stair step. “Brush my hair, Jiejie!”

 

Jiejie… “If you want… you can call me that. I can be your sister… if you want.”

 

_Family!_

 

“You’d be so happy to hear it and I would mean it too! They called you it because they wanted to know the word, wanted to learn so when they see you then you would know it was them-”

 

“-Because their Scottish accent was so heavy they mauled the pronunciation so badly!” Ivy laughed as she finished his sentence and took his hat off. “It is the word for elder sister though. So you could call me meimei.”

 

“You like jiejie the best. I want to call you that.”

 

“Alrighty.”

 

“Oh, wait!” Cole disappeared and then reappeared, several brightly coloured bows in hand and a brighter smile on his face when he heard her laugh. “We must have bows.”

 

“Indeed we must. Pop a squat, matey.”

 

“Are we on a ship now?”

 

“N-Nevermind, aha. Let me get to that hair of yours.”

 

“You should stay. Just a little longer.”

 

She paused, but said nothing, thinking on it and the logistics staying and leaving would serve her. “Well… Maybe.”

 

“Good. You’re happy here.”

 

Ivy smiled ruefully. No use hiding from a mind-reading spirit.

 

“No, there isn’t,” Cole agreed. “It is okay, I will look after you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

St. Clements was working overtime it seemed, Mama Cook sending her coded messages in her complaints about the staff or toured customers.

 

Ivy ran a hand over her face as she heard the fanfare of the Inquisitor coming back from the Fallow Mire all the way from her rooms in the tower.

 

Poor lass. She’d heard about the undead and the stench and the Avvar with missing scouts from Leliana. The woman had not been best pleased with her scouts being taken in the slightest. Of course, she had to secretly admire the impressive Avvar that had joined them not a week back as an agent of the Inquisition, having stopped to officially announce himself to Josephine and Leliana and Cullen. What a chest that man had. They did not make them like that anywhere else, that’s for sure. Amund had roamed eyes over her when he’d passed her teaching some self-defence moves to new initiates to their army and she had smirked and winked at him, but dismissed him from her sight so he knew not to bother with that.

 

Seeming to understand, he’d gone on, simply appreciating the, well, _appreciation_.

 

She simply wasn’t up for any of that with anyone, not yet, not… potentially for quite a while.

 

It was hard to wash off Solas from her mind.

 

Her old trick of quickly replacing one man with another wasn’t working here in the slightest because the thought of someone else’s touch repulsed her right now. So she’d gone for familiarity and found a friend in newcomer Rylen that Cullen had taken on as a sort of Second-in-Command, liking his accent so akin to her own.

 

Kid cleared her throat. “Should I go?”

 

Ivy gave her a letter. “Yes, give that to your parents when they next visit.”

 

A short bow and the teen eagerly left.

 

She was now one of her little oranges and wanted to do a good job, after all.

 

Better to have few spies than many - less problems and easier to pin down when there was problems.

 

How Leliana managed her lot, she didn’t know, because Arcturus had told her he’d taken up the role to play double-spy on said spymaster for her. She’d been surprised at his honesty, but realised he was loyal to her above all. For her, he’d found that one of the members of the dragon squad, Tundra, was also a spy for Solas. His spy wasn’t exactly malignant; it seemed she was there to keep an eye on Ivy’s health and whereabouts in a report her mage managed to finagle somehow. She wasn’t sure what to think about that (what with his rejection and all – seriously, what the hell was he playing at to deny them happiness yet think he should have any right to her general status?) and decided to keep her for now instead of ‘promoting’ her to Jameson, who was rather adept at his little espionage thing.

 

Everyone had reports on everyone and like some big elephant in the room they all didn’t say a damn thing, politeness, grins and mysteriousness acting as their shields.

 

What bothered her was the lack of qunari spies. Oh they were there, she made no mistake about that, but she wanted to know who it was. She wondered if The Iron Bull even knew, even though she’d tried to get in with that group as often as possible. She idly looked at the wall in thought for a moment and then got up to go and visit her adoptive daughter. Regardless of what would happen, the Scot kept up a good knowledge on where spies were in the castle as she trained up Kid in St. Clements ways.

 

Oranges were her people with honeyed words and networking and maintaining links and making sure eyes were on them. Lemons were the interlopers making waves and forcing people apart and both the citrus fruits made sure to direct things as needed. The Candles were the ones that oversaw segments of the Clements in a more management type position and kept an eye or dozen on all else. Choppers… chopped. A la Red Queen in Wonderland. The Bells of each were the leaders of each sect of the entire company that spanned all of Orlais, with a base in each country against Orlais’ borders. Naturally each Bell oversaw their lyric in the nursery rhyme, such the money being looked after by Shoreditch to get around to each Bell and St. Giles making sure to keep an eye on housing and industry companies and St. John’s looking after weapons and keeping an eye on armies of both the Grand Duke and the Empress.

 

It worked surprisingly well, but it helped most of her Bell’s didn’t know each other by face and only by codes and in turn it made them far more protective of themselves. She thought of it from reading about Greek fire of the Byzantium’s which had one part of the industry creating them not knowing the secret of another part of it and the composition of it still hadn’t been known even when she was last there in the year 2012.

 

She may not have many spies, but she had a lot of people unrelated to the company helping out that adored being part of it and getting a little bit extra, rather like the Red Jenny’s, and tight knit communities of Bells and a good lot of outsiders being paid to attempt to find out about them. It not only boosted the mysteriousness of St. Clement’s, which Orlais loved the drama of and gave her extra money, but it also helped maintain the level of security of her people to stop them from slipping their guard.

 

When she approached the Inquisitor, her lips quirked at how close Lana was to Cullen.

 

Well, well!

 

It certainly was kicking off there, wasn’t it?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

Varric did a double take. “Cole? Who attacked you with bows?”

 

“No one attacked me. I wanted to make her happy, so I have bows in my hair.”

 

“Brighter the better huh?” The dwarf asked wryly.

 

“Yes! You understand!”

 

“Uhh… Sure, kid.”

 

Cole went in, reappearing next to a standing Solas, who peered up at him from his book he was bent over and raised his eyebrows at the new adornments. “It’s okay,” He said as he came up close and remarked quietly, “I am keeping her happy for you.”

 

He stilled, eyeing the tied silk ribbons with a clenched jaw. Her hands had been on him. “I… do not know if this is what I wanted by this wish I had in my head.”

 

“You didn’t want another man of this world to keep her as happy as you do.” Cole didn’t take notice of the wince, only noticing emotions. “So, I thought a man from another could. She wanted to use her bows on hair again.”

 

Solas blinked slowly and sighed out, knowing the Spirit was only doing what he could to help and did not mean it in such a way. “I… am grateful Cole. Please, continue to do make her happy.”

 

“Of course! It is easy to make her smile. But even you think that should be your job. It should be. You should let it be. She is unhappy, Solas. You would both be happier.” He disappeared.

 

The Dread Wolf looked towards the shard and drew it nearer to him, listening to the magic of it instead of his own sadly singing one before bending over and then sitting heavily in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face as he put it down. He picked up a book, found no interest within moments and casually chucked it to the side of his desk, glowering at his fresco, lips behind hand and elbow on chair arm while the other hand drilled an irritated rhythm on the other arm.

 

_Another man._

 

He would not be prepared for that and would not take it well, no matter how long it took, whether it be months, years or decades.

 

Little reports already showed her more often around the qunari or that man she shared an accent with, Rylen.

 

He scowled a little deeper.

 

Solas couldn’t do anything about the qunari, but that Starkhaven he could.

 

He got up and went about his business, putting on a neutral face as he stalked out.

 

Leliana slowly backed away from the side, eyebrows raised high. So, one of her more important suspicions had been right all along. She had to admit, they’d been very quiet about it. No noises reported from any of her spies within their ranks. No longing looks or traded touches or secretive notes swapped hands.  Maybe it really had been just sex? They did get on uncommonly well for those who had just met moments prior to the Breach happening. Likely it was just the benefits from being bedpartners quickly and living together that gave them such connection.

 

But that was not a man who acted like it was just sex.

 

Not one bit.

 

As bard and spymaster, she’d met more than enough lovesick men to know when she was looking at one before her. So had Ivy broken up with him? Or just denied more? Or perhaps some other twist she would not predict? She would watch and ponder. And hope for the best for them. She’d seen the when they first got here and took a break from their research and cleaning up, laughing over something or other in their hands at that very desk.

 

A shame.

 

They seemed so less lonely together.

 

And it was so much easier to keep tabs on both of the threats to the Inquisition when they were together.

 

After all, Ivy had some sort of hand with St. Clements and Solas something with the rumours of this wolf Elvhen gods’ agent.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

Ivy didn’t so much as step in the Rotunda. Letters needing to be sent was given to a servant to take, squirted with the most delicate of Orlesian perfumes she wore in Val Royeaux so she’d know that he was thinking that she herself didn’t come. Let it be a reminder of what he was missing.

 

And if he didn’t know whose letters it was, then he sure did realise it when a busily-closing-rifts-Lana asked for her to come along to the Western Approach two and a half months later in the War Room as Ivy trained up troops, entertained nobles and built supply lines from connections in Orlais with Varric and Josephine, the Inquisitor hoping to extend the Champion’s visit again. She was in her modified ‘In Death, Sacrifice’ outfit, buds of sweat on her brow and dirt stains on boots amd leggings as the prior night it had rained but to stop herself smelling horrible to the people of the council she’d spritzed on some perfume.

 

They said nothing so she counted it a win.

 

Arms crossing, she tapped her chin with a finger and slowly said, “Hm, the men are pretty decent now and I could use a break from the nobles that Josephine here keeps throwing my way - as if they want to watch me get all icky.” She scrunched her nose at the Antivan.

 

“But you do it so well, Your Excellency!”

 

Ivy nudged her. “ _Josie._ ”

 

The Antivan giggled at the exasperation of the warrior. “And they do like it! One of their own commanding the troops while the Ferelden sits back?”

 

Cullen was affronted. “I do not just _sit back._ ”

 

“That’s what they think!” Josephine laughed as Ivy joined in with the laughter, hand to mouth, “But you have Your Excellency to extol your virtues, I promise.”

 

“Yes, by complimenting how pretty his hair waves when he fights in the ring.” Ivy grinned cheekily, making the Commander huff and cross his arms as some of the others laughed. She lowered herself so Cullen could see her past the diplomat, hands held behind her. “You do not have to worry about your reputation with the Orlesian’s, Cullen. They know exactly how much I admire you. I’m sure you’ll know at the Wintersend Ball.” He flushed when she waggled her brows playfully. Then she shifted back and chuckled lightly. “But, yes, I will come with you to the Western Approach. I would have asked to come, regardless. I’ve got some business there. One of my fellow Professors are there. Guess what that means?” Her tone became cheerful.

 

“Dragons,” Came the ringing groan from the advisors.

 

“Oh yes! So pumped to go see this Abyssal Freddie spoke of!” She cheered, grinning widely. “Apparently, she’s _beautiful_ ,” She sighed out wistfully.

 

The door opened suddenly, and Dorian’s usual shiny outfit made it known who it was before they caught a glimpse of his face.

 

“Ladies and Gentlefolk, your most beloved is here! And I wish to present to you my amatus, who I hope you don’t mind staying for the foreseeable future, Inquisitor.”

 

“A guy who can keep up with you and your immense confidence? We’d be foolish not to,” Lana smiled at him, teasing. She watched a man stride in then, purposeful but calm, about six foot and an inch or two taller than Dorian, clad in Tevinter clothing like the one she’d seen Dorian’s father wear, but shorter and cut to one side like Dorians. He wore similar trousers and boots, buckles and artistic embroidery everywhere with a staff in one hand but daggers on his left. The man had astoundingly bright blue eyes and reddish brown hair. He had strength to him, somewhat broader than his lover, and though his face had not an ounce of fat on it, he had a soft look.

 

He looked trustworthy.

 

And somehow familiar.

 

“His name is Henri and we met years ago in Tevinter-”

 

“No it fucking isn’t,” Ivy suddenly snapped, furious.

 

‘Henri’ looked at her with wide eyes, disbelieving. “I… Ivy?”

 

The rest looked a bit stunned by the dark look on her face.

 

“Excuse me, I like but do not raise your voice to my amatus-!”

 

The others enlisted for the trip to the Approach went a bit more defensive, watching warily.

 

“Years ago?!” She snarled, eyes flashing as her body shook in unbridled anger. “Tevinter?! _Henri?!_ ”

 

“You’re alive…” He breathed in awe, stepping forward, taking in every part of her. “How?!”

 

Solas crossed his arms and stilled when he saw this, looking on intensely.

 

Who was this?

 

What did he mean to Ivy?

 

What had he meant by _how?_

 

His mind raced and his blood pumped hard as his fingers tightened against biceps.

 

“Excuse me?! I have searched the fucking continent just to find you! You’re the only reason I travelled with an insane professor who loved dragons was just to get around to find you because I was a beggar on the bloody streets of Orlais that couldn’t get anywhere! Dragons!”

 

Him? The reason she was a dragon hunter?

 

Eyes went to the male, wondering why.

 

“You’re Ivy the Godslayer?! The one that-?!” He stated loudly but cut himself off, incredulous and angry himself. “Of course you bloody are! How the hell could you put yourself in that danger?! You stupid, _stupid_ woman!” He roared, slamming his hands down on the table, staff clacking loudly, their pair of hot-blooded Scottish furies flying. “Why?!”

 

“If I couldn’t find you in all the fuckin’ continent after years of travelling, then I was going to make myself so big you couldn’t _resist_ trying to find me to see if the Ivy you knew and loved was the Dragon Hunter!” She snapped out. “Why didn’t you try to find me?! If there was any sign of Marcus Montgomery in my bloody town, I’d have dropped the _Empress_ to see you! The fucking gods! Anyone! I sent so many people out there to look for someone with your features and name and personality traits…” She breathed out heavily, feeling like wanting to cry before snarling anger replaced it for him making her feel like this. “Eleven years, you sodding shit!”

 

“I was a slave to Alexius, Dorian’s previous Teacher, before being transferred to House Pavus.”

 

That had her turning the stink eye on Dorian, a sneer on her features. “Fucking your slaves? Oh you’ve gone down so _far_ in my estimation-”

 

“Don’t bitch at him for your anger to me! Slavery is a little warped in the Imperium, from anything like a butler contract that I had to a sex sleeve like I stopped as many as I could from becoming. I stayed to help ship slaves out to safer places. Dorian found out I could wield magic and taught me what he knew, later on we became lovers.” Ivy snorted in disgust, still glowering at Dorian. “Meimei!”

 

That had her snapping her gaze to him and shaking her head without a humourless laugh. “Nah, you don’t _get_ to call me _that_ anymore, _Henri_. And how is it any different? I have people under my command and pay that I’d have gladly screwed, but that’d be debasing them, and to me, turning them into prostitutes. You, were a _slave_ , Marcus. Unequal levels of power, Marcus; _not equals_. No _real_ freedom of choice. You know this!”

 

Marcus winced. “Slaves can live almost glamourous lives in the Imperium in the right conditions, and I was only one of them under House Pavus. A slave, finding magical abilities? Almost a fairytale. I stayed to learn, hoping against hope that if you’re alive, I could protect you socially because I sure as hell knew my meimei-”

 

“ _Do not fucking call me that!_ ”

 

“- didn’t need my protection physically. And now I find you’re her? The almost legendary dragon hunter? My meimei? Dragons?! You could have joined the bards and I’d be less worried! Become a crow and I knew you’d rise to the top!”

 

Lana looked between them, “Uhm, guys we-”

 

“You don’t get to be worried!”

 

“I love you! I’ll always be worried about you!” Marcus yelled back, causing eyes to widen even further.

 

“A-Amatus?”

 

Ivy huffed through her nose loudly, looking away to the Tevinter Imperium on the map and shaking her head, muttering, “ _Slavery_ …” Her eyes narrowed on the country she’d never much bothered with but for a few dragon issues around Minanter River and visiting Minrathous on delegation business, a dark look hanging about her features.

 

Marcus turned to Dorian, who was trying not to appear crushed. He caught his arm. “I will explain, and you will understand. Forgive me, but I have something eleven years in the making to fix. It does not affect us as much as you may think. I will admit, the name Henri is a lie. I am Marcus Montgomery, but that change of name is not because of anything sinister. It was because I thought the name was dead and wanted a new one.” He turned to Ivy and asked in Chinese, “ _Mine is not there. That mark thing that was there when we came here. Is yours…?_ ”

 

“ _In that place? Yes._ ” She clicked her tongue once, annoyed. “ _Yours really isn’t?_ ”

 

 _“No_.” He shook his head, the pair of them slumping their shoulders.

 

Ivy narrowed her eyes to watch him and then turned to Dorian. “He told me you didn’t harm him whilst a slave, Pavus. That he was truly kept well. So for that, thank you.” She gave a bow to him.

 

“I should think so!”

 

There was a pause, both of them simmering with pain and anger and hope and relief and disbelief and _love._

 

“We know what needs to be done then?”

 

Solas was the one to ask, hand on staff like it had been since Ivy began yelling, “What needs to be done?”

 

The two looked at him and the hand on his staff before looking around at all the wary faces before looking back at each other and began to smirk challengingly. “A reckoning.”

 

“ _Are you ready to say hello?_ ” Marcus asked in Mandarin.

 

“I will need to, just to be able to talk to you again after this, _Marcus_.” Said male winced. “Leave us to it. No one is to interrupt us,” Ivy said, hand to belt and undoing it, with Marcus copying with his blades and then swung herself over the wide table as Marcus jumped back and ran out of the doors, blocking a punch and then a kick, dodging under it and swinging at her jaw but she blocked, twisting over his arm but her brother followed with his own smirk, put her on the defence as they left into the building proper.

 

The group was left silent in their wake.

 

“Have… they gone off to _fight?_ ”

 

Cullen cleared his throat and leant on the table as he realised what they were to each other, similar eyes spitting fire at one another. “Yes, well, I’d rather not get in between that. Let’s talk Approach.” He heard the crunch of brick and winced. “As much as we can, at least. Trust me, they’re fine. I get _that_ situation,” He muttered to himself thinking of his bossy older sister.

 

They got a good half an hour before the noise got louder.

 

A couple of hits attempted to land but Ivy turned, slunk past Marcus with ease, and was able to take back control, getting behind him and locking a leg with her own but he shifted his balance and lifted a knee to ram it into her. It didn’t hit, her agility launching her back into the war room as she kicked off from him, knowing it’d ache his leg. She landed on the side of the war table, dangling above the floor with only the power in her arms and thighs keeping her aloft from the straight line she was in, chest parallel to the ground as she focused.

 

_Cut down, singing and dancing, energies all around it-_

 

Her head raised after a second but he was already on her, leg lifted to viciously kick her but she dropped with only her left holding on the table, natural gravity plus her pushing off had her falling left and grabbing onto his leg, twisting around it to kick at him, but he fell to the ground and twisted, blocking a punch and then five and then getting out of her admittedly weak hold.

 

He back-flipped away and she copied, both of them falling into the familiar first position of Wing Chun.

 

Her breathing was fine, but then she smirked at his chest. “That’s quite the bit of breathing for someone who was as good as I once upon a time… I suppose eleven years makes a difference, doesn’t it?” She taunted and then seeing it not work, she smirked wickedly at him. “I’m guessing your slave owner never worked you quite as hard as I ever did at night, hm? Poor Dorian, never fully getting your full-on _skills_ that I enjoyed daily!” She laughed mockingly. “Pity that.”

 

“You little- Ignore her, Dorian. Trash talk and that’s it.”

 

“You say that like what I said isn’t true. The night was beautiful, Dorian. You’d have been breathless at it, the fireflies, the green vistas of the misty forest while high above in a beautiful temple, the clean air, and yet the perspiration and heat of _humans in the summer night-_ ”

 

“Fighting!”

 

Glee crossed her features, “If you say so, more like _tumbling about-_ ”

 

Marcus leapt for her and Ivy saw her chance, sliding under him and he saw his mistake the moment after she did, getting up on her front arms and kicking him high, slamming him into the wall and he fell to the war table. “URK!”

 

“Used to having to defend your relationship, I see!” Ivy went to her belt at a sedate rate, taking out healing potions and giving them to her gēgē. “Here.” She crossed her arms when he took them. “I feel, _kind of_ better. Sorry about the table, Cullen. I know you like it _just so._ ”

 

Cullen snorted at that side remark as she passed him. “Forgiven. Perhaps it will jolt something in me to get a new view or idea. Glad you enjoyed yourself.” He pat her shoulder.

 

Chuckling, she squeezed back.

 

Marcus groaned, noticing the others had pushed themselves well back from the fighting duo. “You feel kind of better? Well that makes one of us. I guess we aren’t _two peas in a pod._ ”

 

Ivy snorted, lips twitching and then scowled at him.

 

“We’re like _cat and dog-_ ”

 

“You stop those stupid puns-” Ivy snapped, walking away and out.

 

“But you always loved my puns, meimei!” Marcus explained as she went, dropping from the table.

 

“Not anymore, prick! He’s safe, Advisors. Now, Inquisitor! I shall come to the Approach! Just send me a missive. Marcus, move it, we’re grabbing a drink and you’re explaining yourself further!”

 

He followed after her, grabbing Dorian as he went and leaving the others to it as he pulled the mage out. “You always laughed at them when we were kids. She did as well, always giggled.” He told Dorian, who blinked back at his amatus, wondering if they weren’t lovers but… “Meimei!”

 

“I’m done, you rank git! Couldn’t even see something as obvious as that last kick I did, hmph!”

 

Marcus grinned and went after her, seeing his chance as she guided them to the Tavern.

 

The Ambassadors and Inner Circle looked at each other, unsure.

 

It was Cullen who smiled, understanding it as others didn’t. “They’ll be fine. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

 

Josephine followed his lead when she understood their relationship. Montgomery. Of course. They were siblings. “Indeed not. We will simply send note to her after.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

Inside the tavern, Ivy guided them up the stairs and Marcus called out to the barkeep. “Six of your finest on her, please!” He pointed at Ivy, who snorted but said nothing, nodding at the barkeep who did as bid. “Ivy…”

 

“Why’d you have to change names, Marccie…?” Ivy mumbled as she flopped to the top of the short stairs leading to a battlement. “Not like it’d make a difference. Slavery. Bah.”

 

He sat next to her heavily. “It did to me… Made me realise it was all new again. Not a… dream.”

 

Ivy sighed heavily. “Dorian, we’re not whatever you think. We’re siblings. Look at us.” She wiggled her finger between the pair of them as they looked at him.

 

Dorian did, his thoughts confirmed now. “Now I see it, yes. You are remarkably alike. Montgomery.”

 

“I was just pissing him off to win,” Ivy mumbled and looked to Dorian. “Those hazy summer nights _were_ full of fighting, but it was when we first got to the Temple we were at, giggling like idiots. It was like tumbling about because we were so happy-”

 

“-And nearly fell off a cliff-”

 

“-And could you imagine the teachers faces if we did? Ha!”

 

Marcus let out a bark of a laugh. “Oh yes! Fifteen years of martial arts and making sure we knew our surroundings and bam, death because of stupid siblings teasing and a cliff. Fun headstone, that.”

 

Ivy snickered with her brother. “What gets me is that my brother and I have similar tastes in men.”

 

“You liked Dorian?”

 

“Liked? Brother dearest there is no stopping the Dorian love train, you either admire him forever or be jealous of him forever because you want to be as gorgeous as he is. Look at that fabulous moustache.”

 

“Decadent chest.”

 

“Dreamy biceps.”

 

“Wonderful thighs.”

 

“Incredible fashion taste.”

 

“And he’s mine,” Marcus said proudly, eyes glinting at his man.

 

“Ugh, don’t make me jealous.” Ivy groaned and put chin in hands as Dorian preened from the attention from them both and the reassurance from his lover, already feeling better.

 

He raised a brow. “What, no man for you? Weird.”

 

“Oh, there’s a story. I’ll tell you later.” She sighed.

 

“Gets me time to rebuild my skills in your care.”

 

Ivy looked at him suddenly. “Marcus,” Her voice wobbled and he instantly shuffled closer. “I thought you were _dead_. I loved you the most and to think you were-” She choked. “You’re an absolute-!”

 

He put an arm around her shoulder. “I thought the same. You were my little sister, the one I always looked after. I loved our parents and siblings but… you and me, we were always together. Under dads’ tutelage, in school, in the Shaolin Temple for years and then nothing. I didn’t see my beloved sister for so long… I almost wished you had a quick death instead of losing our family. It would have been less harsh.”

 

Ivy then sobbed and broke down. “I was so _lonely_. No home. No family. Nothing to live for or make proud. Homeless and prideless.”

 

“ _What’s the point of living if I don’t have him there?_ ” Cole’s voice came in and Ivy nodded.

 

“Oh, Ivy… Dorian, come hug your family,” Marcus demanded arm out.

 

Ivy whimpered and sobbed again before she was hugged on three sides. “I-I-I’m so happy you’re alive! I love you so much! I was alone! Orlais was like a pit of vipers, I had nothing and no one and only luck got me to meet with the Prof when I wanted to see an exhibition on dragons.” Then she bawled into Marcus, gripping onto Dorian and Cole. “I just wanted to find you!” She cried into his shoulder.

 

Marcus hugged her tight. “I’m here now, sister. Meimei.”

 

“It’s okay, jiejie, Marcus is here now, and me and Dorian are your brothers now!”

 

Ivy sobbed and then a thought came to her as she sniffled, taking the handkerchief Dorian held out. “Why are all my brothers magic related and I’m not?! This is bullshit!”

 

This caused them to snort in amusement though Cole patted her head instead and asked, “Do you want to bow my hair, jiejie? I like the bows. You like the bows. I think you should wield one, like Andruil!”

 

“I prefer polearms to bows,” She moped.

 

“So does she!”

 

“I’m best at blades.”

 

“That’s okay. She was known for bows anyway but preferred spears.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Cole nodded. “Yes, and Marcus is like Sylaise.”

 

Ivy chuckled to herself and nodded. “Yeah…”

 

Marcus slowly blinked, having to wonder at that. “Uh, what?”

 

“Let’s leave them to their odd Fade business,” Dorian stated. “Us two mages will watch and pity.”

 

Ivy simply cuddled into Marcus as steps came up and drinks came in, joyous.

 

Marcus Montgomery, the one she’d searched for this whole time, was alive.

 

**_Her brother was alive._ **

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, the one Ivy's been looking for this whole time. I think I did a few drops in the fic of her searching for someone. And in the summary too. Other things are also foreshadowing. :)
> 
> Time to play 'How literal a Chapter Title can I make this?' ha. Next chappie on the tenth x


	20. Bindings

 

 

 

**Chapter Twenty**

 

 

Ivy hiccupped. “I just… need a hug tonight. Nothing else.”

 

Solas watched her, longing to but still stung over what happened this afternoon, next to the desk in his rotunda and putting a silencing and obfuscating barrier up for their privacy. “Do you not have _him?_ ” He inwardly cursed his own lack of control, but he’d never been one to share well.

 

She winced. “Him and Dorian… They’ve been together a couple years now. They’re good together. But just tonight, I need someone. They… need to talk it over without me there. Dorian needs to affirm, Marcus needs to know Dorian gives his forgiveness. It’s a mess I’m not to be there for, or anyone. S’private.” She hiccupped again.

 

His eyes shuttered, unable to reject her like this, drunk and lonely and needing him. She looked small and he had to resist the urge to pull her against him. “…Do you truly wish to have me tonight?”

 

“C’mon, do you really think I don’t ca-” She cut herself off, lifting her shoulders up slightly and then backtracked away, hands up defensively. “No, you’re right. Sorry, I just wanted some comfort… Sorry.” She turned around, knowing she wouldn’t do this if sober.

 

“Ivy.” Guilt hit him, seeing her curl into herself. She went to him for comfort. His bond. But he had to ask because he was a selfish bastard, “Did you not go to anyone else?”

 

“No, of course not. Shit, shouldn’t have said that.” Ivy muttered to herself. “Sorry.” She turned and strode away but even when he caught up to her, drunk as she was, she caught him around the wrist and twisted his arm over painfully. “Fuck!” She let go and then whimpered. “S-S-Sorry.” She wrung her hands.

 

He slowly put hands on her shoulders, sending healing magic through his arm. “It’s fine. I should have known not to touch a warrior in such a state.”

 

“It’s just… I missed him so much. Mama loved him most because he was smart and papa always favoured me, but… I always had the bestest of relationships with him. Me and my brother always supported each other. When he wanted to go to University, I helped by finding from people which was best to go to teacher wise. When I wanted to learn, he went to another country just to find the best Temple. Then after that education, he joined me for years as a practitioner. I loved him so much. He was the best. Then I didn’t see him for eleven years.” She put her head to his chest slowly.

 

Temple? Practitioner? He couldn’t think of anything near like that. But then it clicked.  “Marcus is… I see. Your brother. Marcus _Montgomery_.” The relief hit him hard when she nodded, bewildered. _Hard_. So hard. He hated it, but he thought he was being replaced near on instantly when he’d gone to the tavern and spied them up there, cuddled with the male ( _that was_ his _place, the wretched, thieving, soon to be dead, piece of shit beneath his heel-_ ) and even Cole by them. He drew her close. “I thought him a lover.”

 

“Naw.” She breathed him in and sighed happily, making him smile and tug her closer, arms around her tightly. “He’s a brother. After you, I don’t think I’ll see males as anything other to be used than for my own progression and ends.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’ll screw him. Then I’ll help Orlais, right? Produce a kid?”

 

Solas’s eyes turned icy blue as he possessively buried his face in her hair to renew her smell in him once again, magic flaring from him and glad he put that barrier up so no one saw. She smelt so good… He’d have no other scent this, have no one else on her. _In_ her. She should be only wanting to have his children like he’d only want her having his and he subconsciously planned on it happening. Why the hell did this have to be so confounding? Why did he have to make it so?

 

But, regardless, “Who?” was his demanding question.

 

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Don’t think I will. Will he even love our kid? Or will our baby just be his ego?” Ivy wondered to herself.

 

“A child, _with whom?_ ” He had to know.

 

“Why couldn’t it have been you? Why couldn’t he be you and you him?” She murmured, but then pushed away. “I need another drink. Tonight is stupor night.”

 

He was beyond sure she’d not even remember tonight right about now, let alone go into a stupor, having never seen her like this and knowing she could take quite a few drinks. Perhaps she’d practised tolerance? He had to wince for all the potential hangovers then but he’d done the same thing a long time ago, in the name of freeing slaves. Sometimes simply betting against one of the other Evanuris in drinking competitions was the way to free slaves, as much as it embarrassed him from the baseness of it.

 

“Ivy.”

 

She looked up at him, tearstained and red and distraught. “Or I can just cry all over you?”

 

He kissed her then, firm, needy. She sighed and crowded into him, needing this affection, and he clung to her warmth and body in return. He parted slowly from her, multiple types of alcohol on her tongue now on his tongue, the fumes of it already hitting his head. He would make sure to leave a healing potion with her. “I’d rather you not ever cry. I’ve been a fool, Ivy. Even so ridiculously drunk like this, you are still so wonderful to me. I want to protect you. I want you as mine. I just do not think you could ever forgive me.”

 

“Well, if you don’t kill or harm the only part of my family I have, you know, Marcus… and Cole and Dorian and maybe some of the Inquisition, I could… forgive most anything, I think, cause, y’know, Orlesian. Had to learn to sacrifice and be a cold-hearted arsehole.” Something flashed in her mind, as if she’d said that before and then frowned deeply. “Huh.” Had she dreamt that before?

 

Solas stared incredulously, hopeful, not realising he was squeezing tighter, more desperate. “Truly?”

 

“Yes.” Then she let go and shuffled out of his wanting hold. “Sorry. I shouldn’t do this.” Her held up hands clenched as she moved back.

 

“Shouldn’t what?” The elf asked, grasping her gently again and persistently drawing her back to him.

 

“Put this on you. You’ve already said no twice. I’m being an absolute wretch doing this to you. I’m sorry. You said no yet I’m still…” She shifted away again but he followed, confusing her as she swayed before him.

 

He grasped her elbows to make sure she didn’t fall, cautious but caring in his actions. “You do not have to apologize. You only asked for comfort. I have given it to you previously; that we both want you here in my arms is no surprise to either of us.”

 

“It isn’t?”

 

His ears tilted down as he looked at her sadly. “I would give you my world, if you would have it. But that means so much more that what you realise. You would lose everything. Everything but your brother and I.”

 

“Everything but Marcus? The _only_ thing I’ve been working toward for over a decade? And you who I have this… great thing for.”

 

Hope lilted in his chest. “When you say it like this…”

 

For the last time she moved away. “There’s potential for everyone though. Losing everything? Even after four or five months with them, the Inquisition grips me more than most ever have. And you’ve seen the people I know; absolute characters, the lot of them.” She grinned, swaying and then she looked away. “But… I can’t. Excuse me.” She went to walk away but he held her from behind, unable to see her walk away from him. She slumped in his hold. “Solas, I don’t have the strength to walk away from you anymore. Not when I want you so much. Please don’t.”

 

“Would you be mine? No hiding it? Even as Champion of Orlais?”

 

“I thought you wanted to hide it?”

 

“You’ve more to lose.”

 

“Do I?” She asked lightly. “It seems you have a big secret.” She frowned at him over her shoulder.

 

Solas’s eyes flickered. “Reach the Fade. I will tell you everything there.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“Then, I will teach you how to keep secrets there so they do not come through to here.”

 

“I don’t have magic. I can’t reach the Fade like a mage can.”

 

“Can you not? Is your brother not a mage? Those with magical siblings do show signs of being able to reach the Fade themselves. Can you not rise to that challenge?” He could feel that little candlelight in her singing its tiny note and sighed at the marvellous purity of it trilling at him. So small and to be protected and he wanted to be the one to guide and grow it, to polish it and be proud of her by her side.

 

Until it screeched to a stop and made his ears flicker down to protect against the sound even though it was a magical thing and not actual sound.

 

Ivy growled, frustrated and angered suddenly. “You ask for so much from me, Solas, leaving me on tender-hooks. A relationship is not a challenge like you make it. Only a rivalry is. It’s not healthy for either of us. I was stupid to come to you.” She turned away and began to painfully march away from the rotunda, needing to get away from her- Wait, her what?

 

He grabbed her again, gentle, nothing demanding, yet just like he would have stopped if it was her holding onto his wrist, she also did. “I only seek to protect us both.”

 

“I’ve never needed protecting.”

 

“Against this we do.”

 

Ivy heard the tenseness in his words, wanted to instantly protect and make sure he was well. “What? What do we need it ag-?” She cut herself off. “Bah, no, I can’t.” The dragon hunter finally snapped out and walked away, feeling so foolish now. She stormed out of the rotunda, making her way to the herb garden and slumping into a bush next to a tree to hide because her drunken mind thought it a great idea. She dropped her face into her knees, only to clunk her head back against the trunk of the tree for a moment. It was when she frowned at the unusual snuffling at her legs that she opened her eyes and sucked in a breath at… “Fen’Harel?”

 

The six eyed wolf, and exact copy of the statue she’d slept under so long ago slowly changed, merging into a familiar elf.

 

“Solas?”

 

“I’m taking a chance on you, mate.”

 

Ivy wanted to ask so many questions. But honestly, “I just wanted us to hug in bed.”

 

“Then I shall take you to your rooms.” He picked her up easily and took her away.

 

“What…?”

 

“Mates.”

 

Ivy sighed and nuzzled into him. “Does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want?”

 

He chuckled. “Yes.”

 

Her eyes closed and she mumbled, “Remind me to tell you about him then soon.”

 

“Him?”

 

“The one you just wanted to know about? Not Marcus, s‘pard.”

 

Solas blinked. “S’pard?”

 

“Yeah. ‘Uspar’. Him. Told you. Don’t ask again; S’embarrassing, y’know?”

 

“Yes.”

 

She fell asleep.

 

His eyes narrowed.

 

_Uspar’?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

 

Ivy stared at the elf in her bed, confused.

 

“Uh hey, wake up.”

 

Solas shifted.

 

“Why’re you… in my bed?”

 

He looked at her, sharp eyed at her bemusement. “You asked for me here.”

 

There was a moment of silence as she stared at him. “Sounds like drunk me. Thank you for doing that for her.” She turned away from him. “But uh, yes, in all politeness, please leave. I should not have gone to you as a drunkard. It was unfair for me to put myself on you. Next time just, I don’t know, get a servant to take me away…” She got up and mumbled under her breath as she went to her bathroom, “Not that I ever want to drink again after this, fuck.” Then she paused, staring at the door to the bathroom, hand on doorknob. “I do not think such of you but, I have to ask; did we-?”

 

“No, vhenan,” He replied softly, pained. “You do not remember coming to the rotunda for me?”

 

“I don’t, no.” She shook her head, squinting in thought.

 

_She didn’t recall._

 

He should be feeling blessed.

 

Instead it felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

 

Ivy cocked her head at that unfamiliar Elvhen word again when she realised he said it once more (it flowed out so naturally that to her it felt hard to pick up when it was there) and then turned her head to look at him now sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her intently with a stiff jaw. “I believe you. Thank you for your honour. I… don’t know how to be friends with you now, Solas. I don’t regret what I feel or what I’ve said, but, I don’t know how to make us okay. How do we make us okay?” She asked sadly.

 

“Perhaps this trip to the Western Approach will give us answers? I have great respect for you. I would follow your order in battle and eat and drink whatever you set before me and sleep unguardedly by your side.”

 

She smiled at him in a bittersweet manner, if still a bit dismayed that it had come to this when she truly cherished the man. “I would as well. I would trust your words as truth and go into battle for you, even without a reason given.” His eyes widened at that, looking at her so painfully affectionate. “Alright, I don’t want to, but I’m going to ignore everything uh, romantic, I suppose? That we’ve had. Friendship touch good, anything else I will ignore.”

+

The mage was quiet for a moment, struggling with this. “And… if I find myself finally able to fully give you everything of me? That if I ask for you to stay by my side and we have our triplets and books-readers and apple-eaters and more?”

 

Disbelief was apparent as she looked at him. “You want to know the option of me is still there? You are unfair. What kind of person makes someone they would supposedly care for wait like this? Either I am good enough now to help you, and me, and us, or I fear that I never will be able to. I won’t be changing anytime soon. If this is an issue of trust then let me prove myself in the relationship where we’re happy. If you have a problem then let me help, you’ve seen what I can do and what I’ve accomplished. Unless… you don’t want me involved in it because I upset something in some way. Some plan.” She watched him carefully as she said this, seeing his ears ever so slightly flick guiltily, and it surprised her she knew that, seeing his face blank. “You have a plan… but what… could that be?”

 

‘ _Logical, Ivy. Be logical. Work through it. What wouldn’t he want you to know? If relationship wise then potential other family and wife…? No that doesn’t seem his style. He doesn’t even seem to want a relationship? So push that to the side._ ’ She leaned against the doorframe, eyes penetrating him and keeping him rooted. ‘ _Motivations of people? List ‘em. Money. Power. Magic. Freedom. Loving someone. Someone? People? He loves the Fade… talks of the spirits often… And he was suspiciously there at the Breach._ ’ That threw a warning signal up in the air for her. ‘ _Something to do with the Breach, but not an actual hand and I am far too Orlesian now to believe that not being an actual hand in it was nothing. He is good at words._ ’

 

“Ivy?”

 

‘ _Did he… have a stake in what Corypheus was doing? Isn’t there this thing with murderers and going back to the scene of a crime? That is a thing, right? Or… no that’s one of those crap myths, isn’t it? But why would he? I do not want to believe that. Why does my mind go to this? Why?_ ’ She rubbed her eyes. “Yes, Solas?”

 

“You are right, I do not want you involved in this to keep you safe, but I find myself unable to not be reverential of you. It is for your protection I keep you apart from me, but I want for you so very much, Ivy.”

 

“Is it really so bad?”

 

There was a solemnity to his, “It is worse.”

 

Ivy laughed lowly and rubbed her hands together. “I doubt it could be worse than anything I’ve experienced, Solas.” Whole other world, gone. All the advancements, technology, friends and family and culture and history – _gone_. Living in the gutters for two years and stealing and killing to stay alive - and unmolested. Having been verbally and mentally shat upon. Multiple times trying to appeal to noble’s only to fail abysmally despite being right or honest, only to fail because she wasn’t dramatic enough; too _realistic_ and _honourable_. Chasing after _dragons_ for one word of her brother, for fucks sake! Years of constant dismissal and hatred and bigotry.

 

No.

 

She had gone through a lot for a good quarter of her life. A mere ten years full of constant near death experiences, of travelling worlds and losing everything.

 

It wasn’t just _nothing._

 

Even if he was a murderer or something like a blood mage, she knew this man would have moral reasons for it and whatever he did wouldn’t compare to what she’d already lost.

 

The Elvhen came over to her and held her hands between his tenderly, lifting them up to kiss the backs of them. “I do not doubt the immensity of your experiences, _Your Excellency_.” It made her huff through her nose in amusement, smiling up at him warmly and shaking her head at his lightly teasing smile to her. “What I do will accomplish something that could have you hunted down for even being an acquaintance of mine let alone the one I would have as partner in life and the mother of my children.”

 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve been making sure that doesn’t yet happen then.”

 

“You… have?”

 

She raised a brow at the odd tone in his voice. “Of course, I am not in a relationship with you and I am not interested in being a single mother. My child will have both parents there and whether it be with a love of both dragons and spirits or dragons and something else, the other one that helped produce the child will be there. I want no less. Though I suppose with my brother now here and an extra father figure in both him and Dorian… huh. Well. Hm.”

 

Solas sighed, having thought there could be a possibility he would soon joyfully be a father, no matter how much it would interfere with his plans. They had joined together so very many delicious times over the months he almost expected it, never once spending himself out of her body. Part of him had actually hoped she was, wished to be swayed more to her by his sense of duty… He shook his head because that was foolish thinking and looked at her. “I admit to being disappointed, but I bring that upon myself. I would have been happy to have shared in the joy of parenthood. I would wish for us to have children.”

 

“Don’t think I wouldn’t think you’d be a good papa, near on flawless even,” Ivy waggled her brows playfully and happy to make his eyes crinkle lovingly. “Just I have reservations about your reservations, otherwise I’d probably be bloated right now, admittedly.” She looked down and prodded at her lower belly and a pang of want echoed in him at that. More so when her poking hand flattened and caressed her stomach absently. “I will keep whatever it is you are doing and my thoughts on it to myself. In return, so you know you can trust me not to say anything…”

 

Solas was highly intrigued by a secret she may have and wasn’t about to stop her, trusting her regardless of if she’d give it to him to not, but he did adore the sense of morality she had. “Oh?”

 

She rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah - this is hard - but it doesn’t have to be – Oh - I’ll just - but it’s really-” She shut herself up and looked up at him helplessly, sighing out hard when he blinked slowly at her, knowing he was trying not to show his amusement. “I can’t age,” She finally blurted out, “I’ve looked like this for over a decade. I said it, I’ve said it! I’ll deal with the _consequences_ -” She groaned, closing her eyes and tilting her head away and back.

 

Solas laughed at her animated ways. He put his forehead to her temple, one hand stroking her opposite cheek. “You are not the only one to do so.”

 

And the fact she’d cottoned on was hope for him as he felt her stiffen.

 

Her mind screeched to a halt.

 

“…What?” She gawped but then blinked and quick as a flash held onto his waist, holding him against her, forearms vertically up his back. “Oh you are going _nowhere_ until you explain that one, rift-mage.”

 

He chuckled and did the same, joining his fingers together and resting his hands on her behind, enjoying the firmness of it and the soft plush of her breasts against his chest, something no smaller elf of this time would ever have and admittedly he desired. She was a fighter and had muscle for it, but her womanly charms were round and pleasing to cuddle or bite into, and he loved them against him even more. “I also do not age. We are of those that live many years. It is why we find ourselves so bound to each other so quickly. Ones like us have a little extra in them that know when someone physically and magically excellent for them is around. Usually we cannot resist their taste and smell. Especially the taste of their delight.”

 

Delight? _Oh_ his-?

 

Wow.

 

Yes, she had wondered why no other mans’ come had tasted as nice, no matter if they ate plenty of mango or pineapple for the last few days.

 

Pro tip, that.

 

Perhaps she should have had Solas try that in Val Royeaux.

 

But… “Ah, bound?”

 

Solas approved of her wariness to bindings. “It is not a commitment until the time we both agree to be with the other, yet we will _want_ for the other. But it is not forced upon us. Not a need. Just a want that we can allow to be a need. If we bond I will not be able to find myself comfortable unless I see you. Or you I.” He did not add that barely any had taken it since the true slavery and slavery wars between the Evanuris began.

 

“For the sake of my protection, you don’t want this.” She looked away, huffy about that.

 

The mage narrowed his eyes with a little smile on his face at her belligerence, amused at her expression as he mentioned, “Yes, vhenan. You are pouting!” He said in laughing astonishment that slowly lowered to a soft and surprised, “I did not think you _pouted_.”

 

“I am not! A lady of the court does not pout.” She sniffed, fake and snotty-like, and snickered at his amused look, looking playful before it tamed down into firmness. “But yes, know I do _not_ accept this whole protection thing. I will be able to protect myself.”

 

He felt her tiny blip of magic throb at the declaration but then dim unhappily.

 

“But, friends, as you want. Again, I’m sorry to do this to you. It’s not fair.” She dropped her hands.

 

He removed his hands from her delicious behind and held her waist instead. “It is easily forgiven, vhenan. I will not be harsh in such cases.”

 

“Thank you.” Her mind went to Gaspard because, if he dies after they marry, she could potentially have control of a throne for a long time, and wasn’t that amusing to think? Or even better, she could simply be part of the court forever as Grand Advisor just to watch the drama and no one would be able to kick her out – because who would give up free help honed over decades like that? “Do be sure to stop by the court after all this. I’ll be sure to have you in an excellent seat and watch them squirm at an elf mage in a better position than they are. Ah, and then you can spin words around them and trap them! It’ll be fabulous!” She chirped happily, clasping hands behind her, eyes bright and bouncing on her toes, making him smile at her.

 

“I will be sure to enjoy myself!” The male replied earnestly.

 

“Talking of _court_ though, Vivienne will be up soon so you need to go.”

 

Solas quirked a brow as she pushed away from him and vindictiveness rose in him as the thought of the court mage possibly making her uncomfortable twinged at him. “You do not fear Vivienne, do you?” He could most easily take her out if his lady did not like her.

 

“Everyone does, don’t you know?” She put a hand to her mouth playfully, hiding the smile. “But she’s unhappy I am leaving tomorrow with her instead of tending to the Orlesian masses here so I figure I may as well throw her a bone and look it. Unless she comes with. It is a big area.”

 

“If that is what you wish. We need to pack well. If you would like, I can pack yours?”

 

Ivy cocked her head. “I will have weapons on me and a belt full of small things and a couple bigger ones like writing equipment and a book, if that helps? Lealos will have extra space.”

 

Solas nodded, pleased to take care of her and have her trust in this. “It does help. Speaking of harts, did you see we have a new harangue of harts?”

 

“I did! But, uh, please don’t choose a female one. Or do, I’m sure I could use a laugh at your expense,” She teased, referring to their very first conversation.

 

“Shall I bring out my collection of hart puns? I can harangue you with them.”

 

Ivy groan-laughed, putting her face into her hand. “Ughhh… Solas, that was bad, why?”

 

“It makes you smile.”

 

“And I hate that I _do_.”

 

“And we? We are…?”

 

“We’re good, Solas. We’re friends. Right?”

 

“Yes. I am glad, vhenan.”

 

“What _does_ that mean?”

 

“Perhaps one day I will tell you.”

 

“Oh, it’s ‘perhaps’, huh? Riiight.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

Ivy went into the Rotunda with a bottle of red behind her, winking at Solas and then ascending the stairs with his smile back at her now in her thoughts, stopping before Dorian on his comfy chair.

 

The mage ignored her with a sniff, raising the book higher to hide his face and show his displeasure, making her duck her head and grin.

 

“Please love me, new brother! I bring you _wine_. Good wine!”

 

He brought his hand out, making ‘gimme gimme’ hand motions without showing his face.

 

She passed it over.

 

Dorian looked it over with a critiquing eye, completely discerning, before turning his stink eye on her.

 

Her eyes flickered to the wine and back, raising her brows and cocking her head slightly, playful Mona Lisa smile on lips.

 

“Oh, fine, come here!” He opened his arms and with a happy grin she snuggled in, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “And there better be more of that where it came from!”

 

“I knew you liked me for my goods.”

 

“I could _quite_ say the same.”

 

Ivy giggled. “ _Y-e_ aaah.” Then she formally stated, “By the way, if you do not break the slave contract by whatever means necessary, then by my honour as the Champion of Orlais for imprisoning my brother for all these years, I will be forced to ruin you and the name of your family. At the very least. Not counting what your family did to get him in the first place will be something I’m willing to ignore. For now. Understand it is for his happiness I even accept you.”

 

He heard the threat and nodded solemnly. “My honour bows before you, Orlesian.”

 

“When it does, I would be quite intent on you integrating into my family post haste.” She gave him a pointed look.

 

Dorian let a silly grin on his face before clearing his throat and nodding regally. “It shall be.”

 

“Excellent, brother.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

Lana was pacing back and forth as Ivy and Leliana awaited her answer as to why they were there.

 

“It’s… oh gosh.”

 

The elf came over, sat next to Ivy and slumped her upper body on her lap.

 

The Scot instantly began stroking her hair, looking at her fellow Orlesian for answers at this behaviour.

 

Leliana shrugged; as far as she knew, nothing had been happening with Lana.

 

Both had thought Lana fine and happily flirting with the Commander and training hard.

 

“I have you here because… because… because you two _protect_ me the best, right?! And I thought, I’m really going to need it now, so I have to tell you. I, uh, I’m having…”

 

Ivy paused in her stroking, an idea manifesting before resuming the soft activities and giving Leliana a pointed wide eyed look, remarking, “Please tell me you took a certain brew after…”

 

“N-No.”

 

“So who do I go kill?”

 

“C-Cullen.”

 

“As I thought. There you go, making things difficult!” Ivy joked, going up and hugging the girl to her and smiling when she gripped back in relief. “How’m I supposed to quietly off our Commander? The men like him too much, you know?”

 

Leliana was blindsided for a moment, knowing that the two did spend time together as of late and they’d always had _something_ going on there. “This is not meant in offence but we must know. You are certain it is his?”

 

“Yes, I am a two to three months along. I didn’t want to wait until the three month moment to tell you. I’d rather say now. It’s Cullen’s and I want to keep the baby.”

 

Ivy nodded, sighing through her nose silently, thinking about how much more protection she’d have to have, another couple mounts so she stayed off her feet as much as she could at the very least. Lana would be tired from now on, unable to keep much in her stomach, likely a bit more crabby, the stress and exercise going to be against her for keeping the baby in these first tender months. Her mind whirled through all this, trying to think of the logistics. “Does he want…?”

 

“I don’t know! It was just the heat of the moment, you know?”

 

“Oh, he will,” The bard promised. “Ivy, we must make sure Lana is even more secured.”

 

“Of course. Lana, we do not have access to a doctor on our travels, but one of our mages should know. They can look you over daily, make sure your baby is still happily growing and coming along nicely.”

 

“You should also soon tell Cullen,” Leliana advised. “He will treat you like a queen should he know.”

 

“I-I can’t, I know I should b-b-but… it’s terrifying!”

 

Ivy snorted. “Cullen? That puppy? He’ll gawp but then slobber all over you as he wiggles his arse in delight and ask if you two can also have a mabari puppy in the family. So, which mage? Dorian and Solas can both keep a secret well.”

 

Lana snorted at that for some reason. “Dorian?”

 

“If you wish.”

 

“No, no, I want to tell Solas, I was just surprised that Dorian could.”

 

“Orlais and Tevinter are all about secrets and keeping them – and, yes, letting them out at the best time.” Leliana smiled, brushing back some orange hair knowingly.

 

“That doesn’t help me when faced with two Orlesians!”

 

“Us very trustworthy Orleivhens!” Ivy teased the Dalish elf. “So, I will tell Solas when I see him?”

 

“You are speaking to him now?”

 

The Champion sighed and nodded. “Yes, and I hear the need for gossip that’s in your voices to have me lighten Lana’s load and make my dear Leli’s day.” She plucked Leliana’s hand up, kissing the back of it playfully and getting a fluttering of the eyes in return. She placed the hand down gently. “Very well, I found myself interested in him. How could I not? We have lengthy discussions without growing bored or insulting, became great friends in an instant it felt like, have not argued over anything as he is careful not to judge and not much surprises me if he says something others considered harsh. We are Orlesian nobility and Elvhen Apostate, after all and that already brings others’ backs up. I know we find each other mutually attractive and skilled in our arenas. There is an ease and easiness between us I have yet to encounter in another before. I asked to possibly start a relationship and he kindly said he did not want any one, that my attraction a great compliment to him but that we stay friends. I was hurt, and stayed way to get over it. He understood and was patient with me.”

 

“It’s understandable, he clearly only likes elves.”

 

It was said with such surety, the two humans blinked at her.

 

“Oh, well…”

 

Then Lana winced, knowing it could sound like Solas was a bigot or that he’d spent time going after elven woman. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound-”

 

“Not at all. One can be most sexually attracted to their own kind alone without any judgement from myself. Like favouring a style over another or… something. It’s understandable.”

 

“Like, he doesn’t chase after women, he’s kind of uptight like that-”

 

“I get it, don’t worry.”

 

Lana sighed heavily. “Sorry… I need some time to myself. Excuse me.” Then she paused. “I’ll tell Cullen. Before I go.”

 

“Good luck, sweetheart.”

 

“Indeed so, Inquisitor.”

 

“Thanks, guys.”

 

The two watched her leave quietly.

 

The Spymaster looked to her fellow contemplative Orlesian. “I do not think that he only has attraction to elf ladies.”

 

“Well,” Ivy smiled coyly and waggled her brows at the Spymaster, “It certainly wasn’t what his cock was saying to me when he bent me over my desk at Haven. Or his mouth before that. Or palm, fingers, tongue. Or his thigh actually. That’s a good one. That is one intense, dominant male that loves to watch his partner come. Never been treated so well, Leliana, let me tell you, ahaha!”

 

Leliana laughed in delight at getting the confirmation it had happened. “Please do!”

 

“Looks lingered. I found his scent tasty. His fingers slid along me pointedly. That little cabin of ours became very hot and saturated with humidity by the time we were done, kicking sheets off us just to sleep – and this is the cold Haven! He always liked to cuddle after, didn’t like to let go, and he is so damn good with his tongue in other ways than storytelling, Leliana, my gosh. He is dominant, liking to be in charge in that aspect, but then… it turned slower. It wasn’t just lust, wasn’t rushed. It was softer, luxurious; touches were because it meant something to him. Then he said he wished to stay as friends and backed off. Perhaps he was getting over another by enjoying another, like I do, and didn’t want to fully invest. I always had a feeling it was someone else in mind…” She lied with a little sigh, forlorn at the thought of it. “It hurt. I could not help but stay away from him to fully get over that intense passion. But damn do I miss those powerful hips of his even if my want for him has cooled and gone.”

 

So that’s what happened? Nothing terrible but… She had seen Solas many a time watch after the woman longingly. There was something there uncovered, possibly Ivy not knowing. “Gone?”

 

“I get over things quickly. Quick to burn, and quick to burn out, me. Oh, there was this one time in Haven where we had this tub…” Ivy grinned, finally glad to tell someone and gleefully went into details because they weren’t together, followed by talks of shoes and agents and everything in between. The two were happy to have found such a friend in the other. It was nice to relax with one who understood. Spying business could be put to the side in favour of a little girl time.

 

Leliana missed it greatly, and knowing she had the Hunter in her hands was extra sweet.

 

Meaning she was falling right into Ivy’s hands willingly.

 

After all a conman didn’t succeed by making you believe you trusted them.

 

It was in making you believed they trusted you.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm, yes, the cliche drunkenness. I uhmm'ed and ahhh'ed over putting it in... but at least it's a long chapter of over 6K works? Eh, it is what it is.
> 
> Western Approach up next!!


	21. The Way to the Western Front

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING; imagery of abortion in this. Just a heads up. This is when Ivy tells Solas of it as she shows him a book, if you wish to skip over that part.
> 
> EDIT: Thanks for 400+ kudos!!!! Omg I am so happy for it!!! Did not think it would get here and am so blessed for it! Hope you continue to enjoy it!
> 
> EDIT 2: Any elvhen will always be with English in italics next to it or within the text that will refer to it so you can understand what it means in this fic. In case someone does not see it. If you do not get it then I am more than happy to tell you my own interpretation of the lexicon project from fenxshiral :)

 

 

 

**Chapter Twenty One**

 

 

 

“So! I hear we could take on a _dragon_.”

 

Ivy looked over at The Iron Bull with a grin as he rode up to her side. “Oh yes, baby. Abyssal _high dragons_.”

 

“Nice! Tell me more!”

 

“They’re fire breathing-”

 

“Well, yeah.”

 

Ivy gawped at him and then scoffed. “Oh, oh no, you did not just imply that dragons are fire only-” She riled up to lecture him, but was cut off by Cassandra from the front, leading them.

 

“Do not get her started, Iron Bull. She will not stop the whole time.” The woman scoffed and gave a look to Ivy over her shoulder.

 

The Seeker was waved away dismissively. “Hush up, dragon sister mine. We need to talk strategy for our high lady,” Ivy pushed with The Iron Bull nodding in time with her words, completely agreeing. “How can we win this challenge if we do not?”

 

“We are _not_ facing a high dragon,” The Inquisitor stated firmly.

 

The duo looked back at an exasperated Lana. “…What,” They stated at her, gawping. To not do so was incredulous to them.

 

“ _No._ ”

 

“Why not?!” They cried, faces dropping.

 

Lana looked at them in disbelief, asking. “How are you so stoked for that?”

 

Marcus added in, half amazed and half exasperated, “You’ve surely done enough dragon hunting by now, sister mine?”

 

“Of course not, darling,” Vivienne laughed lightly, pointedly. “You’ve not read the essays she has produced, boosting the University of Orlais’ superior reputation ever higher for years on end. Champion Ivy adores it.”

 

“Huh. Thank you for that info, Madame De Fer. And I still can’t believe _you_ work at a university, let alone _the_ University in Thedas,” Her brother grinned at her grimace. “Ahaha! To think, you were a little ditzy moron as a kid, always running away from school lessons to go bother dad for more martial arts! Wound our mother right up. I remember the pair of you often looking all hang-dog puppy eyes at her for forgiveness.”

 

“True. But perfect son over here always came second to me in fighting which is _all_ I aimed for, let’s not forget that.”

 

Marcus chuckled. “You never wanted to go before, is what I’m saying. But still, you could always experiment at the University of Orlais instead. I hear you have a growing dragonling.”

 

“Hey, hey now, that dragon hunting _was_ at first for you, sure, but then I kind of… got addicted, like they say about tattoos,” She replied musingly. “And yes, we do. I took him in. Deuteronomy. He'd so adorable. You should come see him in Val Royeaux when we go! I know he'll love the attention! Plus he misses me, and I miss him. I should get him a treat or something for being such a good boy.”

 

“Tattoos. Those are good too.” The Iron Bull nodded.

 

Ivy turned to him, eyes bright with curiosity. “Yeah, I noticed you had a couple. Any special meaning?”

 

He chuckled. “Nah. I just liked the look of ‘em.”

 

“Ha! Good enough answer for me. So, about that dragon we’ll take on-”

 

“No!”

 

The Iron Bull and Ivy Montgomery huffed at Lana's determination to ruin their fun, sharing dissatisfied looks.

 

Ivy leaned a bit, muttering, “ _We’ll talk later._ ”

 

“ _Right._ ”

 

“No!”

 

“Ah, Boss, c’mon!” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

When it was a little louder around the fire with Varric keeping them entertained and the group debating loudly over what he was saying, Ivy slowly retreated back to Solas who was nearer a tent in the requisition camp they were in, slinking down next to him.

 

Solas nodded at her, looking away from his book curiously.

 

She took her own out, pointing at a random page but saying quietly with her back to the group, “Just a quick little extra.”

 

He cocked his head at her slightly as he got it, pretending to read a paragraph. “Yes?”

 

“You’ve an I’var’lin to deal with on this trip.” His eyes snapped down to her lower half instantly, eyes wide. “No!” She laughed lowly, shaking her head. But seeing his cheeks turn red and ears twitch a couple times made her grin. “Lavellan and… Ragelan?” _Commander?_   She asked, somewhat incorrectly.

 

“Ra _je_ lan, vhenan,” He replied absently, his heart having about stopped and then lit in joy before dropping to unhappiness. He was coming to terms with the thought that he already considered her his and that he seemed to have a subconscious want to be a father to her children. This was going to frustrate him. Now he had the urge to be one, it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

 

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “Yes, that. Unwilling to give it up.”

 

Solas stared at her for a moment, a bit stunned by this. He had not thought the irritable crush on him from Lana had gone away and so this was news to him. “Lam I’var’lin?”

 

Ivy had to pause to work that out, idly staring past him at a sleekly pointed ear tip. Elvish liked to be more poetic and give imaginings in their language and her grasp wasn’t the greatest. Lam was… past, right? No-no, it had another meaning. Time gone by, so in other words, how long… has she been pregnant! Ah. Now what was the word for month? “About… ta’man, nere tan’man, ny’man?” She waved her hand in a 50/50 motion saying _two months, maybe three months, four months_. “What is…Ah. 'Asahnas' is 'what is' So… Asahnas… ‘abortion’ elvhen?”

 

“Asahnas 'what is?' vin. Vin asahnas. Abortion?" She nodded in understanding and then waiting. "Dala’din’da’lav,” He replied slowly, so she understood.

 

She winced when she figured it out in her head.

 

Palm Death.

 

Well _that_ brought in some terrifying imagery.

 

Her eyes widened at him painfully.

 

“So… Have I been-?”

 

He put a hand on her shoulder, wishing to draw her close but stopping himself. “ _Tel_ dala’din’da’lav. It is not palm death. Ar dasem. You prevented.” He saw her purse her lips, but look at him with a questioning frown that he nodded again to before she nodded back in agreement to his words. He released her slowly before nodding again at her acceptance though he remained taking her in, blue eyes sharp on hers as she still looked completely discomforted. “Perhaps every few days or so would be best?”

 

It snapped her out of the gruesome image still in her mind. “Oh, yes, yes. Apparently, they just got a bit wild one night, though I wonder what they will do. Anyway, uh, good talk?” She said awkwardly and got up, rubbing the back of her neck and closing her book. She muttered, “Dala’din’da’lav,” to herself in pain before she wandered off from him before her brother held out an arm and she happily slunk under it, snuggling in. She needed the comfort.

 

Palm death.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

That image was in her head.

 

She needed a beer or something.

 

Solas’s eye snapped down to his book when he realised he was blatantly staring with the beginnings of a dark frown and that Varric was looking over to make sure they were all doing alright while Vivienne watched all, suspicious.

 

He should have figured she’d think that.

 

He also should have figured she’d want to find comfort.

 

He just wished…

 

Solas closed his eyes.

 

_Tel’dasem, Ivy._

 

His fingers itched to hold her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

A couple weeks later due to helping out people on the way, before they were due to board the boat trip that would last about a week maximum if they were unlucky, Lealos was getting fussy.

 

He rubbed his head into her lap as Ivy was eating, giving soulful eyes before screeching impatiently. 

 

It made the others jump at the sound.

 

Ivy raised her brows at him. “ _Excuse you?_ You can damn well wait for it now for that.” He let out a mourning cry, quieter, rubbing his antlers into her chest hopefully. She pushed him away. “No. That’s not helping your case for me to hurry up. You sit quietly until I’ve finished and then I’ll help you, or you won’t get your usual, got it?” She said patiently, eyes boring into him. The martial artist then stubbornly ate as he nuzzled at her belly and meeped lightly a few times as she did, hoping to assuage himself somehow from knowing she made it better.

 

He waited, if impatiently.

 

Ivy ate quicker for him calming down.

 

“What does he want?” Blackwall asked from next to her, having been rather reserved the last couple weeks, but no less helpful. Well… Thom Rainier… well Blackwall. _Whatever._ That was likely why he was quiet. Ivy kept thoughts to herself on that. He was trying so hard now to repay what he’d done and she hadn’t been there. But he was _repentant_. Not many were and dealt with the scorn that followed as well as he did. So she accepted him. He seemed to like mounts however, and always seemed interested in how to look after harts properly, asking questions of both her and Solas quite often, so she responded, friendly enough.

 

“He wants his antlers rubbed down. They itch.” She put her bowl and spoon down before her. “He’s a pain in the arse if he doesn’t get it, but I’m teaching him patience now he’s mostly out of his, ah, adolescence.” With that, the others turned back to their meals and conversations. “He is still growing though… oddly enough. I’m sure he’s taller than the usual for harts, even though he should have stopped growing months ago. Ah well.” She rubbed his chin, fond.

 

Solas looked over, also having wondered about the hart’s size. It was highly uncommon, but he supposed with the fact she had the tiniest bit of magic of his people in her, there could be providence for the hart to grow to the needs she had of him.

 

_Fighting dragons._

 

He was proud of her for it, but he still worried.

 

Seeing a chance, Lealos nibbled gently at her hand and keened quietly with soulful eyes.

 

“Alright, alright.” She sighed, shifting aside her cloak to reach in her belt and take out the special sanding paper. There was a tied up bundle of it and with a slice of her dagger she cut some off with ease.

 

Blackwall asked quietly, “May I?”

 

Surprised at that, she nodded, smiling. “Oh sure.” Lealos raised his head from her lap as his carer passed the sand paper over, giving Blackwall a wary look. “It’s fine, Lealos. He wishes to look after you.”

 

Lealos grumbled but went over to him.

 

“Ha, I don’t blame him! I know whose hands I’d prefer on me,” The Iron Bull stated from her opposite side, giving her a smirk when she chuckled to herself and then winked at him.

 

“Not surprised you want my hands rubbing down your horn, Iron Bull, I get it a lot from men.” She waggled her brows but then tapped a finger to her lip thoughtfully and gave him an expectant look as she remarked, “Usually that comes with marriage offers though.”

 

His eyes widened. “Uhh-”

 

She snickered louder, unable to stop herself. “ _Easy!_ ” She jeered.

 

“Bah! Seriously though, sand my horns?” He asked hopefully.

 

“Huh, _really?_ With _this?_ ” She held the paper up.

 

The Qunari nodded strongly. “Argh, yeah, they’re gonna start _gettin’_ to me soon. Sometimes you need the hard approach.”

 

Ivy blinked and then grinned. “Oh, well, sure. Pop a squat.” She opened her legs and pointed between them at the ground and then pointed at him. “But if you make any weird sounds I’m punching you upside the head and stopping instantly.”

 

The Iron Bull happily settled there, massive bulging arms comfortably laid over her thighs and knowing it made Solas twitch made it _so much better_. He sighed as she began, a bit unsurely. “They ain’t gonna fall off. Just rub up and away.” He waved a hand, showing the motion. “Yeah like… ahh…” Another sigh, happy and content this time. The scraping felt damn good.

 

Lealos whuffed at her, unhappy.

 

“Hush you, it’s getting done, yes?” Ivy continued with The Iron Bull’s horns as she gave him a look as Blackwall chuckled and continued his good job.

 

“ _Just like the tamassrans, warm and cozy, caring and knowing just how to take care of horns. Firm, gentle, concentrating._ The Iron Bull would purr if he didn’t want this to stop because it’d ‘weird you out’.”

 

The Qunari merely opened one eye sleepily. “Kid, let’s not go into those memories and make this weirder than it has to be. Again.”

 

Cole looked at the woman. “It’s okay, Ivy likes to do this sort of thing for her family. Laughing, teasing, fighting, _you’d fit in well as a Montgomery_.”

 

“He would.” Ivy clapped the Qunari on the shoulder and started on the opposite horn, tilting his head.

 

The blond spirit stared for a long, silent moment, making The Iron Bull shift a little more at his silence than his usual outburst of thoughts from others in trying to help them.

 

He was used to men staring, but not with such wide eyes and without blinking and with such knowing.

 

Maybe he was annoying the elf.

 

So what?

 

Why’d he have to be judged?

 

Kid could be creepy at times.

 

Cole then looked up at her, causing The Iron Bull to breathe out and slump into the woman behind him more. He held out a hairbrush. “Will you do my hair next, Ivy?”

 

“Of course, Compassion.”

 

Vivienne hummed, “Dragon Mother. We can work with this, darling. You won’t be poisonous, but magnificent, wondrous and almighty… And mix that with the relatability of a mothers’ love? Hmm, yes.”

 

Varric asked, “Hey, Ivy, why do you let the lady villain over here control that sort of thing? I’m just curious,” He added on at Vivienne’s look of distaste.

 

“Oh, very simple. Vivienne has nothing to fear from me, but I have something to fear from her, therefore I am safe and she is not, and I get the benefits and she the control.”

 

“I-what?” Varric laughed as the others tried to work out the surprisingly riddle like words the easy and relaxed Ivy just spoke. “Did you just read some really confusing crime novel the last month?”

 

“In court, dear, keep up,” The politically inclined mage sighed in disdain. “Her place is higher than mine, therefore she will always be attacked for it and attacking me for my position would lower hers so she does not. Ivy is the one safe dock in the court because she does not wish to be a viper in a pit of snakes because she is the dragon that can inflame them all and is someone to be feared. We know I would attack others to keep her safe for my own position being maintained and that would bring danger upon me. Therefore, Ivy is safe and I am not. I control what happens around her to a point and, in return, she also gets extra safety and my abilities for her own. I enjoy my high position once more, and the wealth and good reputation and frivolities that come with it. Are we quite _done_ with this obviousness?”

 

The dwarf raised his eyebrows at her. “You got that, hunter? I’m surprised.”

 

“Varric, I work in the Court, I work with Dragons and I work with Academia, that’s three different types of _The Game_ at once and many a time they merge with one another. If I did not get thrown into the cutthroat pool that is _The Game_ and choked on its toxins to gain resistance I would not be here but six feet under. We Orlesian’s do like our fork positions being just right. It is barbaric to have it any less so.”

 

“Quite right.”

 

“Have you had any assassins come after you?” Marcus asked, worried.

 

“Only in broad daylight surrounded by many witnesses,” Ivy nodded with a wicked smile. “But also last night in Denerim, Val Chevin just a week ago, Korcari Wilds in about two weeks and I know a formal announcement shall come from a certain Bell House soon enough. Sera understands.”

 

“I what now?” The blonde blinked and then snort-laughed. “Oh! Right, gotcha! _Them!_ I like the other for the people them! They’re right good for the small people!”

 

“They were quite pleased for the experience,” Vivienne added smugly, pleased by this. “I received word from your particularly favoured one. You were right; Lord Ymir was behind the Forsythe Inheritance dilemma.”

 

“Did he finally cack himself and give in, then?” Sera grinned, showing that, while she may not be one for nobles and The Game, in a roundabout way she did play it and it was one of the few reasons Vivienne hadn’t outright burnt the girl to ashes – that and the Inquisitor liked her a lot. “Nice!” She crowed, happy by this when Vivienne deemed a nod in her direction acceptable. “Not just nice, great! He had this slave ring we were busting slaves from with the help of this other group St. Clements. They’re pretty good, yeah? Maybe I’ll try get in contact with them for you ‘Quizzie?”

 

Lana blinked. “I… sure? Slave free-ers? Sounds something worth putting time to.”

 

“Splendid dear,” Vivienne smiled victoriously, Ivy chuckling knowingly and holding her own cards to her chest.

 

“Grr! I’ve just done something for you again, haven’t I?” Sera snarled. “Argh!”

 

“Wait, St. Clements? Like Oranges and Lemons?” Marcus stated, and Ivy nodded with a grin as the once Court Enchanter look at her, disbelieving and then fury was on her countenance. “What…?”

 

Vivienne look to her with sharp eyes and Ivy merely smiled at her in reply, knowing that she’d outmanoeuvred the woman for months now. “You. _St. Clements?_ ”

 

“Yeaaaah. The Bells of St. Clements and I have had many a dealing and I might have an in with their boss. I do hope they not been too much of a problem for you, my dear Madame?”

 

“Not. At. All.”

 

Ivy nodded and gave a harder look to her right-hand woman. “ _Quite right._ Decided to have myself a little stake in them. I’d advise doing the same, hm?”

 

“Indeed. So.” Vivienne would have to redo all her hard work now and she knew Ivy knew that and had played with her. Just who had she been dealing with here? Vivienne had not expected it of her, and a sudden greater respect had her watchful, and respectful.

 

Varric stared and then asked, “What aren’t you involved in, Hunter?”

 

“I have fingers dipped in many pies. So to speak.”

 

“Ew!” Sera scrunched her nose.

 

“Not… not _detached_ from my hands, Sera.”

 

“Oh! Tasty then.” Then the elf took her in, pondering. “What’s your opinion of peaches?”

 

The Scot stared, bewildered, but Blackwall simply put a hand to his head while a couple others sighed. “Uh, what? I like them, but _what?_ ”

 

Vivienne gritted out, “Ignore her, Champion,” as the elf archer snickered.

 

Highly alert to his own level of secrecy, Solas did not expect it of Ivy - even as he saw her dealing with multitudes of letters daily – and was surprised.

 

Hm.

 

How skilled _were_ these women at The Game?

 

Blue eyes flickered to the woman now tending to Cole with a tender smile.

 

And how could he use that to the profit and protection of himself and his partner in life?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

It was later on that night on watch that Solas came into the tent, having put up a strong, energy draining barrier for these few moments.

 

He watched her sleep for a long moment, nose twitching. The scents on her were throwing him off from properly watching the camp. Yes, he’d thrown a barrier up to do this but he did want to return to his lookout spot quickly, disliking eschewing his protective duty. The woman was next to Lana who was snuggled against her heat. Humans were much warmer than elves and he himself had shifted himself against her after their more passionate activities together, revelling in the warmness emanating from her as his body cooled much quicker. He liked that her heat felt like she was still happily in the afterglow of their passion fulfilled and that it meant he had satisfied her well. Or sometimes it was just nice to have his own warm lover to cuddle to him.

 

Sometimes, when he’d been allowed to, he’d come into her room before she fully slept and simply slunk in to curl around her, enjoying her waking up before smiling warmly and pushing into him and falling asleep all snuggled up with him.

 

This was fine, knowing there was nothing there, even if the pair of them were in flimsy shirts and smalls.

 

He ignored the elf lady entirely, smiling at his lady happily at her peace before it dropped, eyeing her legs.

 

But to ignore a male smell? Between her _legs?_

 

The world asked too much on that front.

 

His hands twisted her on her back as gently as he could, and he ran them up her thighs, leaving his own scent behind, rubbing lightly as his magic throbbed out and along her body.

 

His possessive magic calmed down and he could _think._

 

Moving back, he noticed her shift and she stretched, unbound breasts pressing against the material, nipples tight and tempting.

 

His hands fisted.

 

Ivy made a little sound in her throat as she woke up and looked up at him blearily, hand going under her pillow and clenching around a weapon before noting who it was. “My turn?”

 

“No, I was merely wishing for some of that paper for my hart,” He murmured, putting a hand to her shoulder as she rose to elbows and gently pressed her down again. “Rest. I will take the rest of the night. I do not require as much sleep as you.” It was true, and he would have her rest so she could look after Lana above all else right now. He stroked her hair, knowing she was staying up to take care of the one she considered daughter when pregnant. And he was proud of her too, marvelling that the woman he adored, who practically owned his heart, was one to make sure her life was gone first before others. He did not wish her gone, but he was respectful of her protection being important to herself and others. He adored this woman of his for it, wanting her to know she was also protected, always.

 

She chuckled and remarked near silently, “Yes, yet you usually don’t get any when you’re in my room, Solas,” and turned into Lana, winding around her protectively.

 

He smiled at that and put a hand to her thigh that she hummed at in acknowledgement, feeling a little more clear-headed and so much better at her being scented as his and protected and safe, and went out to walk the circumference of the camp.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

 

The next evening in the large shared room on the ship they had, Solas felt his brow pulse and his ear twitch sporadically.

 

Dorian was there now, having demanded a head massage, and Ivy had smiled and given in easily.

 

Of course Cole wanted his hair brushed once more, which she loved to do.

 

And then The Iron Bull held out the sanding paper for his horns, making her laugh and give in.

 

Marcus was even now getting a shoulder massage, replacing his lover and murmuring in that other language they spoke with her replying fondly.

 

Ugh.

 

He despised his own jealousy.

 

Varric leaned to him. “Try not to let the unrequited stuff show so easily, Chuckles. It’s just not you. Ruining my characterisation here. Or are you buffing it up and rounding yourself out? Hm. Hard to decide.”

 

“I do not know what you mean.” Solas settled back, adamantly pulling up his book and ignoring everyone.

 

His magic sung agitatedly.

 

The merchant prince shook his head. ‘ _Moron. Completely smart and can’t even see what an opportunity he has before him for an astonishing wife._ ’ He’d take Bianca as his bride in a heartbeat if he could, if circumstances were different.

 

But perhaps that was it?

 

Circumstances.

 

Varric wondered of them once again, keeping thoughts to himself.

 

The rest of the boat trip was not a good time for him, having to bear with this, someone always up and unable to get his scent back on her that would dominate all other scents. They noticed the dark looks at the walls of the ships and his silence. The elf was rather glad they took it to mean he hated sailing, and none of them really blamed him for it, all grumpier as time went by and glad he at least did not take it out on them with his silence, knowing his sharp tongue.

 

They managed to find some things to do, like Blackwall and Sera and the Inquisitor teaching Lealos tricks. Dorian and Vivienne threw amusing insults at each other, but then would design fashion together, Dorian great at drawing but Vivienne was the one with a more fashion inclined eye. They argued over who would design the outfits for The Ball, declining on giving information to the others. Varric and The Iron Bull seemed to have taken on Cole, teaching him things of the world while Solas watched over them especially, making sure The Iron Bull and Varric didn’t corrupt the Spirit of Compassion somehow.

 

Marcus and Ivy spent most of their time teaching Cassandra the arts as she’d requested, though sometimes would remain quiet and let them speak, simply listening to the unusual yet pretty Chinese, like now.

 

“ _Thanks for accepting him,_ ” Marcus murmured, slowly flowing in motion with his sister, keeping in perfect time. He’d asked for some more peaceful tai chi instead of their usual more furious fighting that had Cassandra and Bull watching avidly, hands on weapons, when the two had witnessed it a few days back. “ _The family has apparently given up my slave contract. I’m free, sister._ ”

 

Ivy smiled to herself victoriously. “ _About time that came through._ ” She would keep her mouth shut for what Dorian would do next, having given her blessing. “ _Brother dearest, what do you intend to do?_ ”

 

“ _Adopt your kids as my own and also have many cats. Dorian would never have a mabari._ ”

 

The dragon hunter chuckled at that. “ _Work wise. Living wise. After this trip, I will not be staying. I have yet to inform the others of this. I go back to Val Royeaux and I have a large home, if you and Dorian would want to live with me._ ”

 

“ _What of the Inquisition?_ ”

 

“ _I plan to work from afar. There’s suddenly just too much in Val Royeaux to properly manage for me to be out of it._ ” Business meetings, both clandestine and not, would be taking up the majority of her time. Then she knew Empress Celene would likely put more work on her when she finally gave an update about what herself and Frederic and his research team would do with the Abyssal High Dragon. It was likely going to be her job. The Empress ruled, Grand Duke kept control over the armies, the Spymaster did as the name implies, Grand Magical Advisor also did as the title bid and it seemed the Champion would be… kind of the right hand man to them? Either way, that position alone would be enough, but she had plenty more work to do. “ _I… greatly could use the help._ ”

 

Marcus looked at her, stilling the movements and putting an arm around her shoulder. “ _You need but ask, sister._ ”

 

“Marcus?”

 

Dorian came up to them, staff out.

 

“Good timing. We should talk, Dorian.” Marcus clapped his sister on the shoulder, giving a quick kiss to her temple and left with the befuddled necromancy mage he loved.

 

Cassandra watched quietly. “I heard names… I take it you wish for them to live with you in Val Royeaux after all of this?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I had hoped you would be Inquisition for good.”

 

Ivy gave a weak smile. “We both have our duties, Seeker, wherever they may land us.”

 

The woman sighed in dissatisfaction. “Yes. We do. I just… I will miss you greatly.”

 

“As will I, dragon sister. You are ever welcome to join me, of course.”

 

Cassandra laughed lowly, but appreciated it. “I will keep that in mind.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our team get to them western front... and expect another well known companion to show up in Ch23!! Wanna guess who?


	22. Evaluations

 

 

 

**Chapter Twenty Two**

 

 

Cassandra and Blackwall and Iron Bull led the charge against the wholly unprepared bandits attacking their camp.

 

Honestly, with them in front, the mages at the back and the Montgomery siblings by Lana as bodyguards on either side they had _absolutely no chance_. Within a moment a dozen bandits without magic to aid them against the Inquisition were down. After being cooped up in a ship for a week, they were glad to get that burst of energy going, relieving some stress.

 

“They were _destroyed_ ,” Marcus whistled, impressed with the lot of them.

 

“Dorian, nice lightning work!” Ivy called over, having seen how the lightning whipped around with deadly precision. “Your staff was _on point_.”

 

He swept a hand through his hair prettily. “Naturally, though I suppose some of that is thanks to your brother.”

 

She grimaced at that, making some others laugh at her face. “ _Please_ don’t-”

 

Iron Bull laughed. “We can guess!”

 

“I do _not_ need to hear this about my brother, Iron Bull.”

 

“Ah, shit, she dropped the article.”

  

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

 

Of course, despite some relief, some tenseness remained.

 

“Ah, Solas! You startled me,” Dorian snapped, hand twitching to his staff as the mage purposefully stepped on a stick so the Tevinter knew he was there. “You’re always so… non-descript.”

 

Irritable mostly at the male for simply laying himself demandingly over his heart for whenever he wished to be massaged like a spoilt brat, and trying to ignore the sharp jealously he felt for not having her touch on him, the elf replied, “Please speak up, I cannot hear you over your outfit!”

 

Ivy's lips twitched at that, sharing an amused look with Lana and Cassandra.

 

“One cannot believe you could even understand what it would be saying regardless.”

 

“Then that is _your_ lacking.”

 

“Let us ask the highest ranked Orlesian here! Ivy,” The mage slipped over, slinking an arm around her shoulders after throwing a smirk at Vivienne. “What does my outfit say?”

 

“It says, ‘Pay attention, for I glimmer because I do not fear attention or attack against my beauty’, Dorian.”

 

“Exactly! Have you ever seen Solas in anything close?” The mage asked, doubting it and throwing him a distinct look down when the elf came to the other side of her, protective.

 

Flashes of Orlesian tailoring one time months ago for a mere two weeks and then multiples of cool naked skin swept through her mind and her breath was caught.

 

“Yes. Very much so.”

 

“ _Elegant, pianist hands, sleek lines, Orlesian tailoring both fitting and glorifying._ ” Cole spoke up, looking at her thoughts. “ _Marbleise, magnificent, masculine. But… not like a dragon. That’s important._ ”

 

Ivy cleared her throat and Cole gave a sheepish smile and quietened himself.

 

“Thank you both,” The elf mage showed gratitude by bowing his head, stilling the thoughts from his mouth. What she thought was highly complementary. Pianist hands? He looked down at his digits, simply thinking them long and calloused. They’d done a lot of terrible things, and not enough good to balance them out. He did not like looking at them, though he did quite like seeing them when holding hers within his, the warmth of skin stopped him from thinking upon the wetness of blood, the cold of walking lonesome through a cool forest or the heat of magic in the past lost.

 

However, Solas wondered with a little furrow in his brow, with her _utter love_ of dragons why it was important it _was not_.

 

“Not like a dragon? Well, no hobo elf mage _would_ be as glorious.”

 

“ _Unwashed_ hobo elf at that, Tevinter,” Vivienne stated, given sour looks to the pair of them. “Remove yourselves from the Champion. I am sure she does not wish the smell of desperation to get into her clothing.”

 

Dorian scowled over his shoulder at her.

 

Solas clenched his jaw.

 

Ivy dropped back instead, taking Vivienne’s hand that mainly wielded the staff as wickedly as it did the quill and massaging it, “I would have my people free to touch me, Vivienne.” Her head was down.

 

Considering she looked powerful and in control, Vivienne sighed, “Oh very well, but do not come complaining to me of male stench when it gets hot.”

 

“As you say, Madame De Fer.” Ivy went back to the two and walked with them, head held high.

 

Solas smiled to himself as Dorian preened at the loyalty.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

It took another three days to reach the main camp in the Western Approach, due to dealing with sets of Venatori.

 

Scout Harding had finished with her report the morning they’d woken up, each getting their own tent. The group had set up a few camps up over the Approach, but nothing major, considering the amounts of Venatori and White Claw and the High Dragon in the area. Then there was the immenseness, the lack of supplies and all sorts of beasts that roamed. They’d brought large carriages of supplies with them and extra mounts with the money Josephine had wrangled up for them. The first intent was to push their own people out to camps to gain more control over the Approach.

 

With a small bit of deciding on the people, they would separate into groups and claim three camps in the next few days before coming back to Lot Spring Canyon Camp. Warriors, rogues and mages _were_ to be equally enough spread out... but for a few cases arising that instead threw everything off. As it stood, Marcus wouldn’t let his sister go by herself after such a long time apart, desperately protective, and Dorian was very irritated to not go with his lover and so was there along with The Iron Bull. Seeing as she could not have her Champion, Vivienne went with the Inquisitor, and unfortunately for the prim and proper circle mage, that meant along with Blackwall and Solas. Cassandra led the final group of Varric, Cole and Sera and more of the scouts than the other two would have.

 

The first group was to go deal with dragon happenings, Inquisitor’s group went up to The Still Ruins and Cassandra’s to the Craggy Ridge to try and set a camp up there.

 

Then Inquisitor changed it up, wanting to stay near Ivy, so Solas would come with her and the hunter, as would Iron Bull. The last group remained the same, but Marcus and Dorian instead had Vivienne and Blackwall, Marcus exchanging staff to be primarily sword and shield to protect the better mages.

 

Before they did, they had a damn decent breakfast.

 

“ _Anything I should know about our dear enchanting lady of magic?_ ”

 

“ _Impress her with magic and be smart. Illiterate idiots drive her nuts, but you are the dragon hunters brother and therefore should be adequate enough._ ”

 

He chuckled at that. “ _And the lumberjack?_ ”

 

“ _Apparently he isn’t going by who he says he says he was. He was this chevalier person or… something. Some murderer of a family and has been repenting for it for years. I think I like him. He repents. He is quiet, though, and will follow your orders. Make sure you be in lead or the iron lady will never respect you. I may have set a high bar for you there, dear brother._ ”

 

“ _I see. I will make sure to. So… Do you think we’ll find him?_ ” Marcus asked quietly.

 

“ _Of course. Well… Maybe?_ ” She muttered back in Chinese. “ _They said there were reports of his things trashed._ ”

 

Her poor Frederic. For all she knew, one of the foremost minds of draconology could be dead out there, corpse rotting for the vultures to gnash on. But, something didn’t make sense to her. With all these supplies ruined, all these bastards in the desert, how did her darling Frederic and his team survive until at least last month? He’d been out here for the last three that she knew. With her near one half year with the Inquisition, he’d been out there for half of it, previously up north with some Vinsomer drakes along some rocky coasts.

 

“ _But maybe not him as well?_ ”

 

“ _It’s not as though they stopped talking about him. He is like a crazy cousin to me. The one that got me out of destitution without him even knowing it. Or maybe he did? Chevaliers do take note of the paupers they come across. The good ones at least. I know I saw him while he was and made note of him being decent. If I can keep him safe now, I feel I will have repaid him completely._ ” They got up.

 

“ _Then we shall make sure he lives,_ ” Marcus clasped her shoulder and Ivy bowed to him, fisted hand covered by the other, just above her head, and Marcus bowed lower in the same fashion. He paused as he looked at her when they both rose, taking her in fully. Then he came up to her holding her face and kissing her forehead. “ _I am so glad you live, Ivy. It’s a wonder to see you every day once again. Stay safe, sister._ ”

 

She held onto his wrists and closed her eyes, taking in the feel of her big brothers’ protective hands. “ _Anything you ask Marcus, I shall do my best to make sure happens._ ”

 

Marcus sighed, smiling at her gently. “ _As will I. Come back to me. I will not lose you now._ ” He let go, going to Dorian, putting the back of his hand to his mouth to hide the pursed lips, parting for the first time after years of not having her around and feeling emotional but not wanting to show it, wishing to remain strong and staunch for it. She would be fine. She'd handled many dragons before. This would be no different.

 

Ivy closed her eyes again for a moment before going to the Seeker and put a hand on Cassandra’s forearm. “Cassandra. Be safe out there, dragon sister.”

 

“I will. Try not to upset the dragons.”

 

“I most certainly will. After all, then they’ll be on only me and not the rest of you inexperienced lot. My honour and pride would have no less.”

 

Cassandra sighed in exasperation. “Then come back alive and mostly unharmed.” She clenched a hand on top of the one on her forearm tightly. “I would not have you-” She choked a bit. “I would see you once again.”

 

The Seeker was passionate, but silently.

 

She cared _so quietly, deeply_ for those she loved and was _so proud_ of them.

 

Ivy copied the moves she did to her brother, but instead held the woman’s forehead to hers by the cheeks. “You will have me, and the rest of us, my dear, wonderful Seeker. Cassandra?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I love you,” Ivy admitted in a murmur with a smile, widening upon seeing the Seeker widen her eyes. “You are a sister. I love you. It is you that kept me to the Inquisition. No one else, because Marcus will follow if I leave. Did you know that? No? Well. I tell you now. Never fear being homeless or penniless. You always have a home with me, and my irascible brothers.” She looked at Marcus and Dorian fondly before turning back to Cassandra. “I’ll need another female around, especially when I need an auntie for any possible tykes of mine.”

 

“ _Let’s move out, people!_ ” Ellana called out.

 

They parted with Cassandra stating, “I shall stay alive then, if only for your children.”

 

“Good.” Ivy walked back a few steps, looking at Cassandra fully before bowing and turning around to go to her mount.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

It was an hour later that anyone spoke up.

 

“Think we’ll find that camp today?” Lana asked them.

 

Ivy remained noiseless, pensive from parting from her siblings, so Iron Bull spoke up, “Of course, you have us with you. Trust me, we’re the best group, Boss. Right, Dragon Hunter?”

 

“Certainly.”

 

“What’s wrong, Hunter? Not getting enough nookie from Cullen?”

 

“ _What?_ ” Ivy looked up, disbelieving. “ _Cullen?_ ” There was slight revulsion in her voice.

 

“You… aren’t. You actually aren’t! Well shit, I just made that awkward,” Iron Bull said, breathing out from atop his War Nug. “Honestly, with how he follows all your orders, I figure you were topping all the time. Shame. I wanted to know what he was like in bed.”

 

“Pardon you?” Lana said, offended and protective.

 

Solas was in silent agreement, watching the pair of them, he did not scent Cullen and never had, but some soaps can easily remove that. Not that she’d had access to them with him buying her ones as idle gifts or making sure she obtained ones through sellers or servants. But they could.

 

Iron Bull raised a brow. “Don’t you know? Commander Cullen does whatever Ivy says. She’d been working the army to her own likes and dislikes. Has been since she began here, I bet.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I’m banging the guy, damn, Bull.”

 

“Shit, I’m down another word?”

 

“Yes,” Ivy decidedly remarked, giving him a distasteful stare, “You are. Listen, Cullen is definitely nice looking, and damn if he wouldn’t make a great husband - in which you should really propose to him already Inquisitor - but he is most certainly _not_ for _me_ , Bull. He dislikes what I stand for, being Orlesian, so we would not be happy after a year or two. The guy has been through shit and wants to settle down into what I would call boringness and others would consider an excellent retirement. Me? Nah, I like my excitement. I like to teach martial arts. I like magic. I’d bring my kids to see a drake… which would scare the _faith_ out of Cullen, no matter my extensive experience.”

 

“Well, maybe _I_ should take you then?”

 

“You know, I think we’d make a great pair, if not for the fact you don’t believe in monogamy.”

 

“It’s just sex?”

 

“Exactly. My sex should be damn well enough. I’m great.”

 

“Ah.” Iron Bull nodded. “I see. I don’t doubt it, but I like getting to have everyone ride the bull. Besties?” He held out a fisted forearm.                                                                                                                                             

 

Ivy barked a laugh at that. “Besties.” She nodded, smacking fisted forearm to his as they rode. “So, no Cullen because he’s Inquissie or Iron Bull because he isn’t monogamous or Dorian because he’s my brother or Solas because he said no? My list of men is _depleting._ That’s just _sad._ ” She looked up at the sky unhappily. She had become used to frequent sex.

 

Iron Bull raised a brow at Solas, considering him an idiot at that moment and showing it before turning to her. “They do have to be on your level. Blackwall?”

 

Ivy grimaced. “Gah. Too guilty and dawdling with it, dang.”

 

“Varric is out from Bianca… Cole?”

 

“Are you serious? He lets me bow his hair-”

 

“ _Exactly-_ ”

 

“And calls me _sister_.”

 

“Is that what jiejie means? Fine. Jameson? Saw you fight with him.”

 

“Already too much my manservant. Equal, not subservient.”

 

“Gregory or that other one… Delaware?”

 

“Greg seems to have only himself, though he could be good…” Ivy mused. “Strong silent type against my babbling? He might get sick of me. Delaware a maybe. What about you?”

 

Iron Bull hummed in thought. “Who haven’t I tasted but for you three?”

 

Lana piped up, “Trying to get in with your bother and Dorian, actually, Ivy.”

 

Ivy choked. “ _What?_ ”

 

“You’ve not seen it?” The Inquisitor asked.

 

“No?!”

 

Solas chuckled, wanting _off_ this topic so it was not in either of their minds. “Apparently when they attend the tavern Iron Bull comes right on over and discomforts both of them.”

 

“Excuse _you,_ Bull? What’re you doing to my brothers?”

 

“Just giving them an extra option, Hunter!”

 

“Right, it better be just that. Optional.” Ivy narrowed her eyes at him as he shrugged shamelessly, grinning. “Hmph.”

 

“He has not yet gotten there,” Solas consoled her, making Ivy turn to him, wide-eyed and trusting and making him want to soothe her. “He tries but gets nowhere.”

 

Lana snickered as Iron Bull grunted, watching them all.

 

“Ah. That does make me feel better.” Ivy nodded at being comforted like so, grinning to herself and then looking at Solas gratefully. “Thanks, ‘Las.” She turned to the Iron Bull and simply laughed, “ _Ha!”_ in his face.

 

“Urgh,” Iron Bull grouched good-naturedly.

 

Solas was just content in the cute nickname he’d acquired. Las. Hope. Or anticipation. He was fine with either. “Indeed. Ivy, what is our position against the high dragon?”

 

She perked up as Iron Bull looked at him funny at his manipulation of her focus, causing the elf to raise a brow back.

 

The mercenary would be _questioning_ him later.

 

Ivy took a moment to compose her thoughts into something more understanding for non-experts on dragon tracking. “Ah, her leftover flight patterns are telling me she lives down south. However…” She stood up on the back of the hart, knees slightly bent for balance, hand up to her eyes to block the sun as Lealos lifted his antler for her to hold onto, used to this. “There’s signs of scorching on those rocks to the north. She hunts up there, I’d say. Abyssal’s don’t eat as often as other kinds to conserve energy considering where it likes to live. Food should be harder to come by, but we can gamble with a very high likeliness on the fact that no one has been able to tackle the varghest and quillback problem that is somehow not becoming too big, and for it to mean she’s now used to eating and comes out more often.”

 

Lana asked, “Think we’ll get near-”

 

A roaring came from above. Great wings fluttered against the sky, flapping its way to a natural bridge eroded by time.

 

“…Never mind.”

 

“Oooh…” Ivy shuddered, eyes dilating in awe. “What a lady… Lucky Frederic.” There was clear envy in her tone only The Iron Bull really got, nodding at the almost lust in her voice that Solas heard and didn’t quite understand. Especially when she gave a barely there low, long hum of want that the Dread Wolf had only ever heard when in bed with her. “She’s going north for food. Gives us enough time to find a decent camp and set up.”

 

“You are awfully lax for such a potential problem?” Solas asked, trusting in her and not feeling endangered in the slightest, but most certainly curious by her and her reactions.

 

“Oh, good news!” Ivy grinned at him. “Abyssal’s are pretty lax themselves. They eat and then they want to sleep immediately after because they’re all cosy from the food and heat, like cats purring on a windowsill with the sun shining on them. They’re surprisingly non-aggressive and cute. It’s why the dragonling we have in the Uni, Deuteronomy, is an Abyssal and is an absolute sweetheart compared to those other buggers. Shame he’s a male; he won’t get those glorious wings. It’s also why they’re thought to have once been extinct, though. They’re lazy, pretty much, and most accepting of us lot and loves his scratches with a broom. Hm, I feel I might have already said this. Anyway, also my second favourite type for it.”

 

“You have them in order of favourites, don’t you?”

 

Ivy winked at the Inquisitor. “Naturally, da’len.”

 

Lana smiled at that, ducking her head and grinning at her hart.

 

Solas approved of both the language and title bestowed, glad more were using it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

They made camp against an arching rock that night, Iron Bull taking the first watch.

 

It was when he woke up Solas and let the male wake up for a couple minutes and settle on a rock that he asked, “What was that earlier, with our Champion?”

 

Solas looked at him, a bit blurry and playing it up to get more information out of him. “I do not quite know what you mean?”

 

“You directed her aggression, and then made her feel better near instantly,” Iron Bull stated, eyes piercing into him. “Why?”

 

“We are merely friends,” The elf exclaimed calmly, “Is it not honourable to do so?”

 

“With your two’s species of human and elf? Yeah, _no_. What’re your designs? Because if our best dragon hunter gets distracted by you? Not having it. Save it until the home base. No messing about on the job.”

 

Solas would deny everything. “Save it? I have no idea-”

 

“Yeah. As if I don’t see it. I make a point to know of the people who _my_ people that I fight with drink, fuck, or have interest for. The ladies of your kinds get tangled up in their emotions because they feel them so quickly and intensely. My Qunari nose can smell, literally, the emotions happening when up close with them. It makes for great loyalists and fighters for the ones they tangle up in, not so much for when a greater problem at hand occurs as I don’t know if she can throw her emotions away and focus on the problem itself from what I’ve seen of her. I do not want the one who could save my ass all upset over you, so you either back the hell off now, or get in there and clear her head up from a good fucking and commit to your woman. It’d stabilise her. And you.” He tacked on at the end, _almost_ absently.

 

Solas glowered at him for his ill statement of Ivy, and of their personal relationship, and of that needling quip at the end from this young brute of a pup. “It is not so simple-”

 

“Ah! So there is something there! I’m willing to bet it is and one or both of you make it _not simple._ The _pheromones_ I scent between you two is insane and throws me off at times. She is the female I smelt over you when we’ve gone on trips together, right? Now you’re here, able to spend quiet moments… You do nothing? Guessing it’s you making it not simple then,” The Ben-Hassrath evaluated keenly, knowing males well.

 

He said nothing, face neutral to hide it all, stewing in anger at this and the reminder of it and the fact she was just there and he could have her if-

 

“As I thought.” Iron Bull chuckled, because even no reaction was a reaction and answer to his spy upbringing. “You think people don’t notice? Varric and I have you pegged as in love with the woman and I know her brother is getting suspicious. We’re betting on when you get together. Hurry it up and let me win, hm?” The Iron Bull got up and retired to the tent, chuckling lowly at the irritated elf. Then he paused and turned around. “Oh, by the way? I got close enough in between her legs to smell her. Your deep smell in her womanhood is faded to near on nothing and it’ll be gone when she has her red moon.”

 

Solas stiffened that he’d known this whole time and was messing with him.

 

He’d know better for next time the qunari nose was more than adequate.

 

The qunari smirked. “Heh heh. Maybe I should make haste on my wants and claim that space instead?” Iron Bull went in the tent.

 

That got him, but then Solas sighed, letting that highly ignoble thought go. It didn’t reflect well for him to want to simply to get into a relationship to push Iron Bull away due to jealousy. He’d had his chance. Still, it was hell on his mind and magic to watch this happen when everything in him knew they were best for each other and the draw of this was so hard to deny, especially with how they’d interacted before, allowing softer emotions to spring forth. Something he’d adored and wish he could continue with. “…Perhaps I should try?” He murmured pensively, wondering at the negatives and if they truly were negative.

 

_Well, if you don’t kill or harm the only part of my family I have, you know, Marcus… and Cole and Dorian and maybe some of the Inquisition, I could… forgive most anything, I think, cause, y’know, Orlesian. Had to learn to sacrifice and be a cold-hearted arsehole._

 

He could certainly make them immortal, couldn’t he?

 

It shouldn’t be so hard to find a way.

 

He did know it wasn’t so much a force of power as it was a bit of knowledge, a trifle thing to do.

 

But there was no point if she wouldn’t agree.

 

And why should she? He’d pushed her away so often.

 

A distracted Lana listened quietly from inside her tent, putting face in hands.

 

She’d thought so.

 

The Inquisitor sighed, and let the last of her crush go, focusing on her baby and the fate of the world.

 

Forget men.

 

She’d felt Ivy have this affection for him in her gut for ages.

 

That he now wanted her when Ivy had clearly given up on him after being rejected?

 

Males.

 

Idiots sometimes, the lot of them.

 

Bah, why did she love them?

 

Lana shook her head at her unfair, uncharitable thoughts, a tad guilty. No, just some. People were people. And she was very glad to be next to this one. She took the sleeping Ivy’s hand and entwined their fingers for comfort.

 

Ivy’s eyes blearily opened questioningly, head raising the tiniest bit in readiness, fist clenching around dagger under her pillow.

 

Lana shook her head, snuggling up to the warm female who sighed sleepily and tugged her closer and then put an arm around her.

 

The Inquisitor smiled warmly at her protector, so relieved, and promised herself she’d look after the woman however she had to.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do people reading this prefer shorter chapters but more frequent, or longer chapters once or maybe twice a week??
> 
> Good news that I also had some serious burst of writing. Like, holy moly. These past two week have had me do about 70K words for this fic. Yes. 70K. So the story will be about 200K words... max. Yeah, let's throw max in. But that means a crap ton of editing and putting in extra bits to make this more well-rounded and plot to have foreshadowing that can help you guess how it will be turning out. And of course, blind-siding you with curve balls will be a further delight to implement! 
> 
> Which... may delay things to make sure the earlier chapters are good. 
> 
> Ah, the joys of writing! 
> 
> I'm totally one of those writers that doesn't have anything but the basic bones of a skeleton for a storyline but then gets one along the way and it fully fleshes out. And yeah, this is going to be about 50-odd chapters, give or take a few. Hopefully you stick around until then, and yes, it is a Happily Ever After! Don't worry! Cameo from a companion next chappie... Who is it?
> 
> Also, we're about half way words wise?! Whoa...


	23. Magic Lips

 

** Chapter Twenty Three **

 

 

 

Ivy and Solas were the ones on the morning watch. Themselves and Iron Bull had been the ones to make Lana sleep through the night every night, and three hours watch each was completely fine with them. The only bad thing was the insane cold, something which Iron Bull just put a furred cloak on due to high qunari temperature, that Solas cast a spell with his magic and would have done so for Ivy, if not for the fuzzy, well-loved bear pelt.

 

He smiled at it lightly. “You still have it.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“It was the biggest one I had seen, that bear. Admittedly, I had needed a way to vent. It so happened that people also needed to eat. He was particularly vicious. You’d have liked him, I think.” He smiled.

 

She chuckled at his tease. “Yes, animals are a subject I do enjoy. I had three younger sisters, and they adored learning about animals. Anytime something came up with animals,” She grinned to herself, remembering copious amounts of David Attenborough as a child, “They would demand to know all about it. Anything from biology to sleeping habits to all the cute little babies!” She laughed, putting chin in hand as she grinned at him. “The countless books I read for them…” The myriad amounts of shows, trips to the zoos and the lucky chances of going on holidays and seeing all sorts of animals with them. She sighed. “One of my happier memories of them. Until they… But yes! I believe I would have liked him.”

 

“They were happy to have a sister like you, and a brother like Marcus.”

 

Ivy had her own thoughts on that, considering they had lost one of them in China.

 

But that was a pain best buried.

 

“We were a loving family. Now it’s only myself and Marcus as the last Montgomery’s. We’ve lost everything but each other. It’s why we clawed our way up through the Imperium and Orlesian ranks without thought to much else. Only way is up when you hit dirt bottom. Solas… neither of us expects to last much longer.” Her blue eyes locked on his. “Whatever happens, it was an honour knowing you as a damn good friend.”

 

He frowned at that. “Do not speak of such things.”

 

“I’ve already told of the assassins coming after me, of chasing dragons, and being Heir. Let’s be honest, my chances are slim.”

 

“You have my loyalty and by my honour and magic I will protect you as best I can. You have my word, vhenan.” His words were a vow, and magic shimmered in him for it.

 

It made her shiver, tone strong and unyielding.

 

She drew up the pelt for a moment, burying her face in the fur.

 

“Thank you, Solas.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Professor!!”

 

Frederik looked around, distracted before his grin widened and his eyes focused, immeasurably pleased behind the full mask. “My darling Ivy! Come to me, darling!”

 

Ivy giggled, making Lana widen her eyes at the youthful sound coming from the experienced woman, sliding off her just as happy hart and jumping him, arms around his neck, enjoying being swung around. “I bloody well missed you, Freddie!” She laughed out.

 

He hugged her tight, placing her down after a suspended moment in the air. “Ah, my thistle! It is a delight to see you! I have missed you more than the sun misses the moons!”

 

Considering the moons were mistresses to the sun in common lore, she snorted and let go. “I’m sure.” It would have meant more if it was someone from Earth. She hummed and murmured to him, “Tell me a story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breath.” She curtseyed with flamboyant hand waves.

 

“My!” Frederic said with a gasp but instantly fell into a low bow with matching hand waves before they both came up at once. “How dare you read anything other than my works or of dragons!” Lealos came over, snuffling at his face mask and bleeting happily. “Ah hello, my wonderful friend! Have you been getting those nice grapes?” He danced in reply, nodding his massive head. “I am most pleased you’ve been treated well! How big you have grown!” He gave in and scratched the hart like he deserved, cheerful at their reunion.

 

Lealos screeched his joy.

 

“Sometimes the sun and moon are lovers who rarely meet. Once in a while they do catch up,” Lana said, getting off her mount. “They kiss and the world stares in awe of their eclipse.”

 

“How lovely!” Frederic stated, looking at the elf in curiosity.

 

“Well, that made me happy and sad,” Ivy mused. “Not a romance I’d have.”

 

“It’s pretty though,” Iron Bull mused with the Champion nodding in agreement.

 

“It’s lonely,” Solas replied, “And to only reflect off one’s glory?”

 

“I’d prefer a volcano. The Volcano gets active and explodes, and the lava soon flows after.” Ivy grinned cheekily, waggling her brows at Iron Bull who threw back his head with a barking singular laugh but she was staring smiling knowingly at the elf who chuckled, staring back with his own smirk.

 

At least she could still flirt with him.

 

“And burn the earth down?” Lana asked.

 

The hunter chuckled. “Might burn the world, but that burnt worlds’ ashes soon get used for new growth from all the nutrients that ash provides.”

 

Solas felt his chest tighten at that.

 

Lana gave her a look. “After, you know, people scream in terror, trying to grab all their worldly goods and make a break for it.”

 

And his stomach dropped at that.

 

“Semantics, darling.”

 

Hope rising, Solas hated how deeply he felt things, sometimes.

 

The Iron Bull snorted at their little aside.

 

“Professor, are you okay? There’s…” The martial artist looked around. “Only one of you. Where’s the rest of the research team?”

 

“White Claw Raiders went off with most of our supplies. But then, strangers in black, Tevinter’s, and others have left me alone.” He went into that, telling of his missing researchers he supposed were dead for the next couple minutes. “Such good dragon-lovers. You know how rare that is.” Ivy nodded, sighing as she watched the scouts create a camp on a cliff edge, able to look over the area before she looked over the elf lady and took her in and then looked away. “Oh, are you on another bodyguarding detail, darling?”

 

“I am. How much of the Inquisition have you heard?”

 

“Not much, some Chantry group, yes? Have you been hired by them?”

 

“I was. Now I’m here for support. You know how it is.”

 

Frederik nodded in understanding. “Yes, those of our level are always in demand.”

 

“Indeed so.”

 

“Wait. Was? Oh, can I hire you now? I could do with another expert.” He lifted the martial artists hand in one and encircled it with the other.

 

Ivy really wanted to, missing him so. “Hey, Lana, exactly how long are we here for?” She asked over her shoulder.

 

Lana gave her an incredulous look. “Are you serious?” The elf woman replied. “We’ve got to meet up with the Wardens!”

 

She sighed at that. “True. Nevermind. Tiny hope.” She told the Serault man.

 

“Oh them?” Frederic said curiously before dismissively going on as he picked up a document and went to read it, saying in a bored tone without letting go of Ivy’s hand, “I wouldn’t bother with them; nasty brutes are doing stuff with blood magic. I saw demons. That’s all I can tell you, darling, I know no more.” He pat Ivy’s hand. “Stay with the dragons rather than the demons. Much better for you.”

 

“Demons shit up everything,” The Iron Bull agreed. “Sex in the Fade too!”

 

Ivy blinked. “Uh, _what?_ I’m missing things here.”

 

“Perhaps we should send word we’ve already set up camp?” Solas intervened before it could become an unusual bitching session and would also bring up a previous conversation Blackwall had with him about that topic in Crestwood. Iron Bull smirked at him, something he ignored as the qunari had been there for that after the trip to Fallow Mire. He was glad he’d not been there for that. “We can get supplies out to here and then possibly go on up to Cassandra’s group to give support.” Their mission was to get control of the Western Approach after all and it would likely take weeks to filter out hiding bases of all the factions here and keep supply lines safe. Especially long with the heat of this place in the highest temperatures of the year before turning frozen in the night giving them extra grief on top of it.

 

Lana nodded. “Agreed. Alright, Alright, I see you want to be with Frederik of Serault here. Ivy, you stay here with the Professor and the camp, making sure they’re both alright and maintain the surrounding area.” The dragon hunter nodded in acquiescence, head bowing. “Professor, it’s been a delight. Perhaps you can come work for the Inquisition one day?”

 

“It sounds intriguing!”

 

The dragon hunter frowned lightly. “Lana-”

 

“Don’t worry, Hunter. I will keep the elf from harm.” The Qunari bodily lifted Lana onto her mount, ignoring her complaint. “I can smell the development.”

 

Solas stiffened, narrowing his eyes at the Qunari that was chuckling at him without even being faced to as he went to Ivy.

 

Bastard.

 

“So I don’t have to say anything about-?” Her eyes flickered to Lana.

 

“Not one bit.”

 

The Iron Bull laughed at Solas’s glowering when he caught sight of it, but the trio left with the dragon experts waving at them enthusiastically before getting on with their work happily, a protective rune necklace in Ivy’s hand from Solas.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

It was weeks later that Ivy awoke from a vibration on her chest and she heard something but then she snapped her dagger up from beneath her pillow to block the one coming for her neck, and she grinned widely up at the shocked elf assassin before her and she slammed him on his back with a quick bit of footwork. She held him down, using a foot against the tent stand to push into him and to keep him there as he struggled against her before apparently giving in with a low chuckle.

 

Her nose twitched at the smell of leather.

 

“Antivan leather? Crow. No, no sight of that stupid hat with the beak.” Ivy wondered out loud, making the blonde beneath her chuckle. “Soooo… what’re you being paid?”

 

“For your life, twenty.”

 

“Is that it? That’s a hit for- _ah_. I see.” Ivy hummed as the stared at the gorgeous being below her, taking him in and having an inkling as to who he was. “Yes, that would make sense.” To some, she was just a writer, a fake, one that used the links to actual experts that did the work she took credit for. A fake it ‘til you make it type deal. That was the amount for a published author. “So you wouldn’t be willing to say who sent you, would-”

 

“Oh, very well, Portus Callen.” The elf assassin sighed, relaxing under her and dropping his weapon to the ground. “You drive such a hard bargain!”

 

She snorted. “Well, okay then. Oh _I_ know who that is. That absolute sod. Hey, fancy a job as one of mine?”

 

He ran a finger down her cheek. “How scandalous!” He teased and then nodded emphatically, continuing on running a finger down her neck and over the top of a bared breast, enjoying the sight of her in this very loose poets shirt. “ _Yes please._ ”

 

She laughed in delight. “No! I’d like another assassin to work for me. Many safeholds across Thedas, you’d be doing work worth fighting for, good pay and security, the usual rot.”

 

“Well, Milady Champion, I would like to accept but the free road calls to me.”

 

Ivy finally took her dagger away. “Shame, that. You’d really see the _fruits_ of your labour if you did so. Still, I’m not _bitter_.” She got up and went to her bag with him still in sight. She grabbed a bag of coin, enough for a kill. “I don’t want him dead, but I want him frightened. Rip apart his library and murder his books, dear man,” She snickered at his bemused look as he sat up. “Oh and for a bonus, if you could first bring me a copy of his latest writing before you do all of this? I do want to know what happens next in _The Shadowed Stew._ I’ve an ongoing bet with a friend that he’s going to kill off one of my favourite characters.”

 

Varric and herself had heavily debated this in the tavern, with input from Dorian and Solas.

 

The elf stared and then flung his head back and laughed. “You, my lady, are very interesting! I _like_ that,” He stated thoughtfully after he calmed down.

 

“Cheers. Hunter Ivy, not so pleasured to meet you in this fashion, but I do appreciate a good-looking bloke in my bedroll.”

 

“Bloke? Ha! Bloke! I am better than that. Zevran Arainai, more than a simple pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Not yet; cute as you are, I just see a failed attempt at _getting me going._ ” She drew a thumb over her neck and waggled her brows.

 

It took a moment for him to get the sexual innuendo mixing with a murder pun, but at that he laughed once more and stood, clapping her on the shoulder. “I will be back about that job offer. You have intrigued me.”

 

Ivy chuckled and took him by the hand, out the tent, passing a guard that had been scouting around the greater area before bowing over it and kissing the back of his hand, winking up at him. “An honour to play with you then! Now, you’ve a job to do.” She placed the money in his palm and rose. “Hop to it, old crow.”

 

She’d taken him to the place he’d hidden his horse. A wry smile hit his lips at how well she knew her area. “Well done, hunter. Well done indeed. But! Enough of the _old_ , yes?”

 

“Retired, then?” She asked, smiling playfully, quite liking this one as well. At his snort, the blue-eyed woman smiled a bit more softly. “Still, stay safe. It is rare for one such as you to get so close to my sleeping self. You’ve talent. Anyway, should you ever want some home cooked food, my resident chef Mama is wonderful at her job and you can pop in to me anytime should you wish for more jobs from me at Val Royeaux. Now, leave so I can get back to sleep.”

 

He didn’t show it outwardly, but that offer of food was much cherished to him. “Not that _you_ need beauty sleep, but yes. Ciao, tesoro.”

 

“Ciao, Zevran. Happy hunting.” She watched him leave, admiring his buttocks as he went out to his horse before waggling her eyebrows back at his knowing smirk when he looked over his shoulder at her smugly and making him laugh and disappear.

 

Frederic came out of his sleeping tent and gave her an exasperated look. “That was _the_ Zevran, was it not? Why is it always the sleeker ones with you?”

 

Ivy grinned and badgered him impishly with a, “I think he’d _love_ to know you knew him in such _high respects_.”

 

The male snorted and slightly leant against the pole of his tent. “I think not.”

 

The Scot shrugged, not saying anything to the slight flush in his cheeks or the way he looked out over the land in case he could still sight him. She’d also bet he’d listened in at the end and watched the blonde elf disappear from the camp, too. “He’ll be back. He wants to know what else is going on here. I left enough clues for him to want to sniff around for more information.”

 

“Oh, he wants to know of dragons?”

 

“Something tangy like that, yes.” She smiled at his understanding nod. “You know how it is; I’m the fake expert-”

 

“Bah! That song and dance? Ignore them!” He waved, dragging her into his tent. “Now. I was looking at Durand’s theory-”

 

“Of course you were, dear.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Go on, go on.” Ivy waved and smiled as he went on for a good half an hour but then cocked her head. “Hey, let me get my notes on Durand and his theories. Might take a bit.” She left the tent to go back to her own to find a naked Zevran on her bedroll. She held the door flap up for a second in surprise before stepping forward and letting it flap closed so no one saw. “I certainly wasn’t expecting you here _naked_.”

 

“It occurs to me that I’d rather make love to you first.”

 

She snickered behind a hand. “It _occurred_ to you, did it?”

 

“Also, you and I have these-” He held up the little bags of prevention tea they both had and stood, warm eyes glimmering when he saw she wasn’t disinterested. “So, if you want a touch that is equal parts respectful and desirable, Zevran Arainai is your man. Orange you glad? I won’t be sour about being rejected.”

 

“Are you telling me…?”

 

“Yes, I will be your ringing knife in the dark, St. Clements recruiter. I cannot help but take such a lucrative deal. You still wish me to go murder books, yes?”

 

Recruiter? Ivy snickered to herself and nodded. “If you could remove any old Tevinter books on magic for my perusal here however, that’d be marvellous.” The assassin bowed and then jumped when her voice by his ear whispered, “Now that’s the respectful part done. How about you get me hotter than the day around these parts?”

 

He smirked at her and crashed their lips together, making her yip against his lips at the suddenness before laughing in her throat and drawing closer, hands cradling him to her respectfully. Hm. Likes to laugh and is courteous? He wanted to make her go wild just for that, slinking fingers up her side. She was ticklish so she twitched and parted from him, laughing and shying away. “Ah, you are sensitive?” Her eyes twinkled up at him, completely up for this and he swiftly pushed her down onto the bedroll, hands trailing up her stomach. “Oh this shall be fun!”

 

Her mind trailed once to Solas, then to his rejections of her, and then Zevran’s hands brought her back to now, dragging down her panties and Zevran’s lips on her, skilfully sucking, completely banished any thought at all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

From then on, over the time the groups were sorting out the Western Approach and claiming it protected under Inquisition banner, Zevran visited her multiple times.

 

Instead of sneaking in, eventually the once Crow simply just waltzed in over the weeks they were there, all the Inquisition scouting group there knowing he was Ivy’s, doing jobs for her or sending out information, sometimes bringing Tevinter books back and often times pleasing her. Zevran knew she thought of him as a paid partnership of sorts rather than underling, making sure he knew this was _never_ a payment for something he’d done and just to be enjoyed and he could leave at any time, softening his slightly already softened heart for her and so simply relished in whatever he could get from her.

 

For her part, Ivy kept him well treated in bed for what he brought her, reading through the books and finding the information she wanted. She made detailed notes in Chinese, pondering over the information found before a rather horny Zevran took her attentions and would kiss away the little frown on her face. “But my notes and letters-”

 

“I shall bring them with me to send off and your notes won’t move. Let me relax you.”

 

She _had_ been tired from all those Tevinter books not getting her anywhere, an old need revitalised by finding her brother reigniting in her heart.

 

Still, Zevran’s lips…

 

He parted her thighs and ducked down.

 

She groaned at his masterful lips working their magic again and said, “Oh, okay. Please do.”

 

Zevran laughed, making her moan lightly at the vibrations.

 

 

* * *

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like x


	24. Champions

 

 

 

 

** Chapter Twenty Four **

 

 

Ivy awoke to the smell of tea, and a little note left by her side and she took in the handwriting.

 

Frederic.

 

_I did not trust what tea he left over again, so I made some more of my own for you._

_Also, did you have to have him without me? Could you not have at least shared like last time? We had fun, did we not?_

_Don’t forget to drink it!_

_I would not have you pregnant until I’m retired and can teach and can coo over your to-be-dragon-hunter babies!_

_Yours, Frederic._

 

She grinned at the thought of last week with the three of them, Frederic having followed her into the tent with a naked Zevran lying there for her before simply flipping off his red tunic and mask of Serault and practically diving upon a surprised but gleeful Zevran as she laughed. He wasn’t interested in her and she him, but they both found delight in watching the other with Zevran and playing with the elf together.

 

Ivy yawned loudly for him.

 

“Did you get my note?!” Said expert called.

 

Ivy snorted. “Yeees!”

 

“And the TEA?”

 

“Yeees!”

 

“Drink it! Now!”

 

“Yeees!”

 

Ivy drank it, tasting the familiar herbs and shuddering as the mix of lyrium in it sped the slightly discomforting process up.                         

 

“Did you drink it?!”

 

“Yeees!” Ivy pulled up her cover as the dragon expert waltzed into her room without a care. “Every time, Frederic. Every time I have a man, you just walk on in afterwards. Regardless if he’s there or not.”

 

“Dragons wait for no one! Pheromones will attract them all the more!”

 

“True.” Ivy stood up, dropping her cover and getting dressed. Frederic went on, ignoring her nakedness as he excitedly talked about their next week. She threw on a half corset that covered only her ribs to keep manoeuvrability while holding her full chest down properly, smalls and low slung breeches and footwear following. She grabbed the bottle Frederic handed to her with a nod, lotioning up what the clothing didn’t cover. It was one of the hotter days, so everyone was in far less clothing, the expert told her. Even he himself had taken off his red flag clothing and put on one of his sleeping poets shirts, slightly stuck to him from the sunscreen lotion he’d handed her, made from local fauna and flora.

 

“So we just need to put down those Quillback innards!” Frederic said, happy with the dragon translation he’d received from Skyhold. “So glad to have this after months being out here! But at least I have had this time with you, my darling Ivy!”

 

“And I, you, Fred'. They do like them, hm?” Ivy tugged her gloves on.

 

“Certainly! The smell of them drives them hungry! If we had enough then we could-”

 

“Milady! White Claws!” A scout came in, alarmed and harried, bow and arrow in hand.

 

“Because we broke the traps, Frederic!” Frederic gasped at her as he too came to that conclusion and grabbed at his blade on his waist to unsheathe it, rushing out and Ivy snagged her jian’s, following afterwards. A dozen of them came from the right, where the mounts were. “Lealos _DIRA!_ ” She bellowed her command to attack and an infuriated shriek came from her beast as she rushed the first one who’d been stunned and looking towards the horrendous sound, taking her down with a neat and deep slice across the neck, twirling around to stab the next one in the chest and twist, kicking him off and dodging another blade slicing down vertically.

 

Frederic came in, stabbing him in the side. Ivy rolled over his back to block an attack by another, grunting as she overpowered the woman and swirled her wrists so the opponents blades were slung to the side and as she dropped off Frederic she immediately pounced up to cut up into the soft of her chin and into the brain, free blade blocking another slice but Frederic took over. He swiftly sliced the head off one, ducked a blow from the next as Ivy went back into position behind him, keeping his back safe, and easily disarmed his opponent, beheading this one as well.

 

“Nice, Freddie!”

 

“A Chevalier does not forget his training!” Frederic of Serault decreed, about to attack the next, but a slew of arrows whistling through the air to their right had them both dodging to the back and left.

 

It hit the already beheaded and falling body, slamming it hard to the ground.

 

Frederic and Ivy stared at it for a second, then each other and then looked over their shoulders in confusion.

 

“Ah, piss! You already killed him! Ahahaha!”

 

The blonde elf with a magnificent bow stood a good distance away, standing on The Iron Bull’s shoulders and cackling.

 

“Sera,” Ivy grinned to herself wryly, glad to see the Inquisition back.

 

“Is this normal?!” Frederic called out. “Is this what you southerners do?!”

 

“It’s what the Inquisition does!” Sera laughed, legs hooking around a horn as she took another down and forcing Iron Bull to compensate her slight weight with a grunt.

 

The dragon duo dodged the next attack from behind them, far too perceptive for this rookie rogue to take them down, one on each side of him and they slammed their blades into him.

 

Only a few more seconds of battle raged on behind them, before an unhappily snorting Lealos came over, trying to get rid of some attached guts on his horn as he deemed it safe.

 

Ivy swiped them off for him with her blade. “You okay, boy?”

 

He whuffed and nuzzled her, massive head shoving into her chest. Sometimes she forgot how big he was and how it looked when someone came up to her with a concerned, “Milady, are you alright? Is that beast…?”

 

Ivy looked up from her mount, staring curiously at a bearded man and black with grey armour and a metal block before his face in case of up-sweeping blows. There was fur around the top of his armour, hinting at nicely built shoulders with extra armour on his left arm, showing he was likely right handed and used to giving and blocking blows. His left was delightfully bare, showcasing a very nicely muscled arm. A thumb of blood was painted across his nose and he gave a little upturned smirk at her glancing at him appreciatively. “I’m quite alright, ser. He’s my baby. Getting big though,” She said thoughtfully, seeing that he’d actually grown taller again.

 

Then she saw Varric come around.

 

“Hawke! There you go, running off again. How’s a dwarf supposed to catch up?”

 

It clicked.

 

“Ah, you’re the Champion! You faced the dragon in the mines? What did it look like?”

 

“Hm.” He ran a hand through his hair and pulled his shoulders back confidently and Ivy raised a brow at Varric, who crossed his arms and shook his head pityingly. “It was sleek but powerful, had graceful horns-”

 

“Highland Ravager near Kirkwall. I see. Yes, I’d wondered where she’d gotten off to. And there had been that rumour...” Ivy mused, cutting him off and making him blink, looking at Varric in bemusement when he snickered. “How tall would you say she was?”

 

“I got to about the elbow…” He suddenly realised Ivy wasn’t interested in his flirtatious bragging, going off into her own thoughts. The Champion looked at his friend. “You think a dragon would impress.”

 

The Dwarf snickered. “Champion of Kirkwall, freer of Mages, Garrett, meet the Champion of Orlais, killer of high dragons, Ivy.”

 

“Hm? Oh! A pleasure,” Ivy curtseyed with the flamboyant hand waves, raising up and crossing arms, while putting a finger to her lips, jian’s dripping blood to the ground. “Elbow? For a Ravager? Must have been just matured, three clutches at most I would wager. Not bad, Hawke. But uh, if you want to try for flirting, just use your body.” She grinned tonguing her canine and then said loftily, “Just that bit more impressive than your dragon skills to me.” She smirked and winked, turning away to go back to tending to her wonderful hart, flicking some more pieces of entrails away.

 

“Oh.” Hawke’s eyes went down, appreciative of that swaying behind, only for Varric to nudge him. “What? Not one for me?”

 

“Ain’t her you gotta watch out for, Hawke.”

 

“What? Is she taken by someone even scarier than she?”

 

Frederic came over and practically jumped her in his excitement. “Ivy! We can use this!”

 

“I was just thinking that,” Ivy admitted, dangling a piece of intestine from her fingers and chucking it from her. “We take the bodies, top them with Quillback-”

 

“And let the dragon come to us! Yes! We shall have our lady!” He cheered, walking off and in his own head.

 

“Hey, Hawke. Up for fighting a _real_ high lady?” Ivy asked over her shoulder, giving a smile.

 

“We’re facing a dragon? And we’re doing it _now?_ ” Hawke said, at first disbelieving but then a little grin lit his face. “I could go for it.”

 

“Yes!” The draconologist of Serault said enthusiastically as he heard that, turning back. “Let’s plan!”

 

“Hey Hawke, how about I see that body in action? Give me some manpower?” Ivy asked with a grin and when he raised a brow in interest, she nodded to the downed bodies.

 

The Free Marcher chuckled and shook his head. “I can admit defeat. Let’s do this grim work then.” He clapped her on the shoulder, only for his hand to linger and trail off before going to a body.

 

Ivy looked knowingly at him with a smirk when Hawke winked at her over his shoulder, pleased at his action, and then looked at Varric with a delicate shrug of her shoulders as he raised his brows. “The battle but not the war, I see? Hm. I quite like. Varric, how _dare_ you not introduce me sooner!”

 

He simply laughed. “And lose my best friend to your Orlesian charms? I think not!”

 

“What, you can’t spare a night without him beside you?”

 

“Oh, I am not going into that with you.”

 

“Not with guts on me at least.”

 

“The _very_ least.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Solas slinked his eyes over Ivy, appreciating what bared glistening skin he saw as he went to the area that plans were happening for the dragon at. Until he got close enough and stiffened. He immediately backed off, possessive fury making him want to go and kill whoever it was that had taken his place in her. Some bastard elf was going to pay dearly for thinking he could simply wander in for some stolen utter delight that belonged to him.

 

Only he could and would treasure her in that way that she deserved.

 

He swiftly began a check on all elf males there.

 

Ten minutes later turned up nothing, confusing and highly frustrating him and his instincts.

 

This would have to go on the backburner.

 

His instincts thoroughly roared in denial at that.

 

_For now._

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

The group waited for the High Dragon to come down, the sun’s rays making the groups of food stink.

 

Ivy breathed out lightly, staring at Frederic across from her, having added medium armour to her clothing, bright red like Frederic’s. The Abyssal loved and hated red the most, so it would draw her attention to them the most. She’d gone over tactics with her people, mages focusing on ice powers, split onto three sides, warriors and rogues and scouts split up evenly enough. She’d given Lealos to the Inquisitor to ride, giving her a firm look that the elf woman nodded at in understanding, gulping but looking strong. She was coming up to five to six months now, obviously pregnant when not covered by her cloak, and apparently elf women had less incubation times than humans did, something Ivy didn’t know.

 

The only reason she was here was so they could keep an eye on her, hidden deep in the cave where the Chantry road stones had finished.

 

The high lady flapped and landed down harshly to the side, sand spraying and making them all wobble from her bulk making the land around them quake for a second. The head was facing to the east, so their group would go first to distract, and the mages could plough their ice attacks in. They waited until she ate, both experts telling them all that Abyssal’s were sleepier and less alert after eating.

 

“Ready?” She murmured to Hawke and he nodded, gripping his staff. “I’ll do what I can to widen the mark for you. Bull. On my mark. _Mark._ ”

 

The pair of them dashed out as the high dragon chowed down, rushing through the sand. “Hunter!” Bull bellowed, turning and swinging his mighty great axe around in her direction.

 

Ivy jumped in time and landed on it, only to be shoved off it and launched into the air, going for the front left arm. She landed, with Cole appearing next to her and clinging onto the arm, the pair of them slicing at the weak joint of its elbow with as many attacks as they could before she could react to it. Cole had a dragon-rune imbedded dagger of hers that she had wondered where it had gotten to, but was glad, because they were both weapon-imbued with dragon runes. The magic in the runes stopped the magic of the dragons, making it far weaker to these smaller blades than it did The Iron Bull’s great axe and strength.

 

The high dragon roared in anger, spewing fire into the air before turning to them on its’ arm, only for the pair of them to run under it as it leaned its weight onto the other front leg.

 

Hawke blasted with his own ice attacks then, getting the attention of the beast, and then letting a powerful cone of cold into the mark the two rogues left behind, with Bull snarling as he rammed the ice in and it splintered, making the dragon shriek and limp back.

 

The next group flooded the area, attacking the left behind leg, Cassandra now with The Iron Bull as well as Frederic. However, all the mages pelted it with ice attacks for the moment, before the high dragon roared raising its wings high.

 

“GET BEHIND COVER!” Ivy roared out, pushing The Iron Bull under the belly of the beast, with the other three following whilst clinging to each other and the rest of them ducked away, closer to said cover.

 

Powerful slams of wind tried to draw them in. Rocks inches closer despite being also buried several feet under the ground and sand blasted all around, making it hard for anyone to see without their eyes being stabbed by grains. They had their hands up to protect their faces. Solas and Vivienne were able to put up barriers for those they knew were hidden and could see a few seconds after but none could leave their shelter until the dragon stopped.

 

Hawke knew the ones under the belly were still fighting and so focused, channelling the base energy of his ice staff onto their weapons. A snarling roar from the dragon made him smirk knowing that his little boost helped them, and it grew wider when the next three blasts of wind didn’t have a fourth follow it. He came out quickly, noticing that despite the injured left side, the dragon still favoured it, proving the two experts correct again. “Damn, we could have done with just one of them back in Kirkwall when in those mines.”

 

Varric was next to him, finally taking a few shots, having not wanted to hit the swift fighters. “Bet I know which you’d have preferred.”

 

“Can you blame me?”

 

“Nah, old men always were your thing,” Varric laughed and then his eyes widened. “Is that _Zevran?_ ”

 

“Fuck, it actually is h-”

 

A deafening roar of agony made them all flinch.

 

“Shit! The Bull and Zevran just lopped the leg off together!”

 

“Time to go full on!” Hawke smirked and raced forward only to see Ivy block a back leg hit for Frederic that had her flung through the air as the professor slammed to the ground from the softened blow. He caught her with his left arm, grunting and stumbling back, but then yelped as Ivy forcefully pushed him back and rolled with him. When she was on her back after enough movements away from the roar of fire hitting the place they’d previously been in and he was on top of her she shoved him up with a grunt. He fell back from her push being too much, but his falling weight was enough to tug her up to her feet and she kept him stable before he hit the ground. “ _Whoa._ Shit!” The pair of them jumped and dashed away from the next fireball.

 

“C’mon Champ! We are _riding it!_ ”

 

“What?!” He followed regardless, blood still pumping wildly. They climbed up the dismembered leg of the snarling high dragon and Cole appeared with them on the top when they got there. “How does he keep doing that?!”

 

“Spirit, just go with it!” Ivy called and looked at Cole, who was already the neck and attacking where she wanted him to. There was a dip behind its head and Ivy slid in behind Cole and gripped his waist with an arm, stabbing at the place one could easily spear blades into, getting right to the brain stem. The high dragon sensed this and shook her head to get rid of them but Cole’s daggers were hooked at the end and he stabbed it into her as she battered her wings out and then flapped mightily. Ivy grabbed Hawke and pulled him behind her, hips cradling her arse. “Hold on tight!”

 

Unable to get rid of them, the dragon took off, twisting and looping over the area they fought at and the trio yelled.

 

Cole cried out, “Champion! Barrier! Keep us on!”

 

Ivy stabbed her blade in as the mage did so, arm suddenly around her waist for stability. “Keep attacking, Cole! You’re nearly through!” Her leg came up and Cole slipped his hands away from the back of the pommel of his daggers as she kicked them in. “Just another-” The dragon’s wings suddenly stopped flapping and it crashed to the ground before them all, the trio dislodging and rolling along a dune of sand. They coughed up dirt, with Hawke at the bottom of the pile of them and groaning at their combined weight on his chest.

 

“That… that was insane.” Hawke coughed from the bottom of the pile and said in gleeful disbelief, “And the _greatest experience ever!_ ”

 

Ivy rose and with a burst of energy, she picked up the surprisingly light Spirit and swung him around happily. “YES COLE!” She happily kissed all over his face and then grasped his head and hugged him to her, swaying them widely.

 

Cole giggled, feeling her pure elation at this and it reacted in him by making his own magic pulse and spread, making him more spirit than before.

 

Solas took this in, surprised, looking upon the two of them before smiling as, in his own burst of energy, Hawke lifted the both of them and laughed joyfully, swirling them around. He leaned on his staff, having not seen such a grand and skilled takedown since the Evanuris’ own best was on a chase. The knowledge, the positioning, the valour, the sheer _gall_ of daring to ride a dragon had him all kinds of captivated this day. So young, and already beginning to match up to one of the best hunters he’d ever witnessed in his life…

 

He looked at the mage and the assassin watching her intently.

 

And that strength was attracting eyes.

 

His magic pulsed at that and suddenly he zeroed in on the assassin, nose twitching as he slowly stepped closer to them.

 

_Him._

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are the chaaampions, my friiiiends! And we'll keep on fighting - to the end! One of the Top Ten best songs to sing in karaoke when drunk.
> 
> I know you so want a bit between our elves.
> 
> Also thanks for 111 unofficial bookmarks hahaha!


	25. Never, Never, Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama, baby. You know you wanted it.

 

 

 

**Chapter Twenty Five**

 

 

 

Ivy was put down and she put Cole down as Vivienne came up to her, murmuring something into her ear in Orlesian and she nodded, peering at the dragon and muttering something back. Vivienne nodded after a pause, mind whirring and then she said something back, making Ivy chuckle and nod in agreement.

 

“Inquisitor! The Champion requests your presence!”

 

“Lealos.”

 

Lana came out as the large hart came over on the command. “Yes, Ivy?”

 

“I offer you, The Inquisition, the head of this beast.”

 

Frederic squeaked, aghast. “We do not have a matured high dragon Abyssal Head in the University! I _must_ study it!”

 

It just highlighted what Ivy was offering.

 

The martial artist closed her eyes for a moment. “Then perhaps the Inquisition has space for an expert draconologist now they don’t have one? I return to Val Royeaux to uphold my duties to the court and Empress.”

 

Lana didn’t want her mother-figure gone during the last part of her pregnancy. “Then… I shall have my child there.”

 

Ivy bowed to her, Orlais style, cheered by this. “You are most welcome in my home! The best of healers in Val Royeaux, I promise.”

 

Zevran came up to her, grasping her hand, speaking in Antivan, “ _Ah but you were wondrous upon the mighty dragon! I could not believe it! On the way back and to see my lady Champion facing a great beast? I had to get involved. Admittedly, it has turned me on greatly._ ” He winked and kissed her hand.

 

“ _I’m sure it has,_ ” She drawled, laughing lightly under her breath. “ _Come to my tent later, I have work for you to do._ ”

 

“ _I would be most pleased to!_ ”

 

Frederic came up to her side. “Now to harvest it properly!” He grabbed her hand.

 

His protégé groaned and was pulled over to the corpse as Zevran snickered and waved goodbye to her mockingly.

 

Not seeing the eyes flashing white lightning blue in his direction.

 

 

* * *

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

Later on, Vivienne banished the males away as the women bathed in a magically made bath, the men having their own on the opposite side of camp.

 

Lana was sighing happily, running a hand over her swollen belly.

 

“Not long now,” Cassandra said softly as she handed over the soap to Ivy, staring at the bump. “And a cute little Lana will arrive.”

 

“Cassandra loooves cute things,” Ivy teased, making the woman scowl at her, washing herself quickly. “Like me and my arse! And I like cute things too!”

 

Sera snort-laughed at Cassandra’s grunt. “S’not a bad thing Cassie! She got a great arse, yeah?”

 

“N’aww, thanks, squirt.”

 

“Hmph!”

 

“ _Squirt?_ ” Sera gawped and then snort-giggled as Lana put a hand in front of her mouth, hiding her grin.

 

Vivienne and Cassandra gave disgusted noises, looking at each other in acknowledged mutual annoyance at the blonde elf.

 

“But then again, she likes lovey-dovey stuff-” Ivy said in fake thoughtfulness, laughing loudly as Cassandra shoved water her way. “LIKE SWORDS AND SHIELDS!”

 

“ _Shut up about that book!_ ” Varric cried out in exasperation from across the camp, causing male laughs to entwine with Sera’s and Lana’s and Ivy’s.

 

“It was a travesty.” Zevran agreed, rolling up and simply joining them, dropping towel and going in.

 

They stared at him.

 

He simply sighed and dipped deeper into the hot water. “The water is better here. Please don’t kick me out. I will not touch, only admire your fine feminine forms, all goddesses! Beautiful, wondrous, bountiful in one case-” He winked at a squeaking Lana.

 

“Oh my- just shut up!” Sera rolled her eyes, not caring. It’s not like she was into dick.

 

“But do not worry!” Zevran wiggled up to Ivy, who snickered and pushed him back. “I have eyes only for my lovely employer!”

 

“Talking of employ…”

 

He held her hand and kissed the back of it. “All your business was passed along, tesoro. Even the pre-written letter for the Empress on the defeat of the dragon so she may begin sending out groups to deal with the beast numbers. I also have credible links and safe, _satisfactory_ hands, hm?”

 

“True. Now. Hush.” Ivy gave a little grin.

 

“Is this assassin trustworthy?” Cassandra demanded of the draconologist.

 

“I also think the same, dear Champion.”

 

“You remember the Countess Le Belvoir?”

 

Vivienne hummed as she looked the male over and then she stepped forward, grasping him by the chin, hand glowing. “You betray us, then you subject yourself to many years torture. Hm?”

 

“I quite agree, dear Zevran.”

 

“I would never offend such beautiful goddesses whose bodies are temples I’d worship at-” He babbled, because even though he was an assassin that could go it alone, and that was an achievement and mark of expertise, he would not go against The Champion of Orlais that grinned at riding dragons, her right hand woman that was a bloodthirsty political dominatrix with a hunger for power, and all their links that stretched across so much of Thedas. “And nor would I dare cross the path of them!”

 

He noted the two other women holding their blades to him, the other elf with a potion of some sort that glowed meanly and Lana’s mark statically charging.

 

This was a most horrible pit of beautiful women!

 

He adored it.

 

But needed to leave.

 

“I shall… leave you be?” He coughed after the last choked out point. They let him go and with a final look at their merciless grins he scurried back over to the men’s larger bath.

 

They burst into feminine laughter.

 

Ivy chuckled and got out the bath. “I’ll go scout. Make sure he stays away as he is on my payroll.”

 

But Zevran indeed was in the men’s bath, shuddering.

 

Hawke raised an eyebrow. “Rejected that quick?”

 

“Ha! Oh they didn’t mind…” Zevran sighed as he relaxed with the men.

 

“So why are you here?” Iron Bull asked, incredulous. “Those are some damn fine women!”

 

“Because then I realised _that_ is the most dangerous bath in all of Thedas and my life was in constant danger. I did not expect a pregnant woman to be that terrifying. Or for their grins to be so vicious. A Red Jenny, A Dragon Champion, A First Enchanter, A Seeker and An Inquisitor. Forget the court of Orlais or the Crows,” Zevran muttered, slinking down. Then he looked at Dorian in disbelief. “You want to join that family? Ha! _Good luck, amico._ ”

 

The mage looked wary, turning to Marcus. “Perhaps we _not_ live with your sister after…” He trailed off at the look the amused but firm amatus gave him. “Oh, very well, but know that you doom us both!”

 

Marcus simply rolled his eyes. “No domestics here, Dorian. Whatever Ivy wants will happen. We’ll deal with whatever hand she has drawn as she plays The Game.”

 

Zevran chuckled knowingly. “How very true. She does like to use those hands- Oh? Did I say that in front of her brother? Whoops.”

 

Solas stilled, eyes closing.

 

His magic howled for retribution, to make him pay, to make her know who was best for her, to take her so hard she could think of no other.

 

No, she was moving on.

 

He… needed this.

 

His ears tilted into his head, controlling himself.

 

_It rather didn’t feel like a need at this moment in time._

 

His fist clenched, eyeing the elf.

 

_A rather different need was emerging._

 

Marcus calmly got up and dried.

 

“Perhaps I should retire from both baths?”

 

The Scot simply pulled on breeches and boots.

 

Dorian looked a tad worried at the too-calm and highly protective-mage. “I would suggest running before amatus breaks you.”

 

“He would never!”

 

Marcus narrowed his gaze, magic flickering in his gaze and flickers of fire twitching around him from barely controlled anger.

 

“Aha… ha…”

 

Zevran ran.

 

“Amatus, she still needs him yet.”

 

“Dorian, my sister could consciously and happily screw a hundred men in a month and I wouldn’t care but to make sure certain teas were available – to defame her so arrogantly? And in front of _me and her companions?_ Aha. **No.** That will _not stand_.” Marcus left the baths after him, taking his time.

 

Varric whistled as there was a silence. “Your man is somehow scary, sparkler. That was murder on his face.”

 

“Isn’t he?” Dorian sounded smug.

 

“It’s hot. Let me in on that.” Iron Bull stated, staring after the other male.

 

“No.” The mage smirked. “Go find someone else, meat shield.”

 

Varric stayed quiet on the fact Solas had left the opposite way at such a diversion.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

Ivy found Zevran coming up to her tent, wet and doing up clothing and opening a bag hastily. “Uh-”

 

“I leave you now, Milady Champion!” He bowed to her lowly, something he’d not done before. “Letters?!”

 

The Scot picked the next batch up and gave them over warily. “Here… Uh, you okay there?”

 

“Thank you! Know I highly respect you, tesoro, beyond anything and I am sorry! I will see you soon!” He left swiftly, ducking around tents and carefully but hurriedly putting the letters into a bag he had only to come up to Solas, who seemed to be waiting for him by the fenced-in mounts. “The people here, my friend-URK!” He choked as his throat was grasped tightly and nothing he could do would get him out of it, magic paralysing him.

 

Solas pulled him closer, slowly, threateningly, eyes dark and wild. “Touch her again, and you shall never see the light of day. I shall turn you to stone.” His eyes flashed a lightning blue, slowly turning the male’s legs to rock. He let him from his magic just enough for the assassin to look down in primal fear at his legs turning to grey before looking up, eyes madly terrified. “And I shall chip at you day upon day, year upon year, and the pain ever growing until you finally collapse into pieces and remain there, aware and **helpless**.” He hissed out. “Never again shall you despoil her with your disgusting hands.”

 

“Never again shall I touch her! I swear it!” He choked out, fear screeching in him.

 

He let him go, magic dissipating. “Go now, and be a good agent for her. I will be watching.” He would not let him betray her, and so would make sure to keep an eye on him. Regardless of their relationship status, she would not have someone stab her in the back when he could help it. That was his heart after all. The weakness he held outside of him. What made him pulse in life when duty was the only other thing that kept him going. He watched the assassin go quickly.

 

The assassin left, wondering in feared awe at all the power these people possessed.

 

This was a camp of people to watch out for, and to not backstab.

 

It was Marcus and Ivy lowly arguing in their secret language they had that had Solas turning his head, stopping him from going after the foul brat. They looked at him when they realised he was in the area, Marcus still frowning and in the debate, but Ivy’s face flickered to _something_ before stiffening to a blank mask and halting the fight with her brother, striding past him to go to the mounts and to the comfort of Lealos.

 

Marcus gave a gruff sigh and said something in Chinese, apologetic but still impassioned.

 

Ivy paused but turned to him and copied the words, adding something after.

 

He said something in return, nodded to Solas, and left.

 

The elf was about to leave after that moment of quiet, but then he saw her bury her head into Lealos and her shoulders rise protectively before quaking. He was not used to a crying Ivy, even if silently, so he could only go up to her in pained want to comfort her and touched her back with a gently murmured, “Tel irlahna, vhenan.” _Do not cry, my heart._ When her head moved to him and little tracks went down her face, he took her gently in his arms and relished her leaning on him. “Why do you cry?” He brought them down to the ground, not seeing or hearing Marcus come back contritely, pause, and then quietly leave again, some things coming together in his head.

 

She burrowed into him, sitting between his legs, slightly leaning against a raised knee. “Everything. Letters and duties and research and Lana and Marcus. It is too much, so I cried. Weak, I know. It is still such a blessing to see him again and we just debated over Zevran and I just- was overcome. First argument here; it stung. It hurts to argue with one I so love and admire. I should not have done so in public.”

 

“It is fine. No one is judging you.” His arms encircled her, tightening at that other males’ name.

 

“Vivienne would,” She mumbled.

 

He smiled into her hair, because yes, that was true. “She is not here.”

 

“Mng.” She grumbled and said in irritation, “Yet I still feel her discontented eyes on my back regardless!”

 

He laughed, burying a hand in her hair and holding her head to his chest as his other hand squeezed a hip and he breathed in her scent. Stars, he’d beyond missed this. Just having her weight against him, the warmth, the solidarity of another of his people there… Her scent and silkiness and body… He fell into a light daze, magic dancing inside him and wanting to connect with that tiny little candlelight of hers. Long fingers played with her hair. It had grown long after these months of knowing her, and to him, he enjoyed the beautiful mahogany. He’d always been fond of her colouring, red-brown hair wild and always askew from her energy, flicking up and around her face, bright blue eyes wide in curiosity and playfulness, pinkish-peach lips always in some kind of wide grin, teasing or happy, and pinkened cheeks that matched.

 

He adored her.

 

Every fibre of him wanted her by his side and after weeks of not seeing her, not hearing from her in this sandy landscape, seeing her favoured colour of orange everywhere, feeling the heat she was emanating and cherished it… he just needed to be here with her. He needed to feel her, kissing her temple lingeringly, wishing to gently push her head up and kiss her lips and get the reply he desired… get the flavour of her he _required_. They both enjoyed this hold, he knew, falling into their little comfort zone of just them and their affection for each other.

 

But then she pulled back and away.

 

“Only if we were together, Solas. Then I could allow myself this which falls beyond friendship.” She shook her head and stopped touching him, instantly feeling colder. She shuddered after she stood and slowly shook her head again, quaking.

 

“You are trembling, vhenan.” He stood up in alarm and held his hands out, ready to take his tunic off so she could wear it. “Let me keep you warm until-”

 

“No. I do not tremble from the cold. I tremble, because, this?” She motioned to what was between them. “This is… only for romance and it pains me. Not friendship. Not like _you_ wanted.”

 

“You tremble from us…” He said nothing more, words already too accusing, but he was foolish, because she was not an idiot and understood what his jealous-toned words already meant.

 

“But I have had sex with another man? Yes, I did. I _took_ affection and entertainment of the body offered to me, _Solas._ Just like you did with me. Yet you, who wants _nothing_ , accuses me when I try to move on from you rejecting me? That I enjoy the touch of another as if it were some salacious blasphemy! You actually-” She cut herself off, shaking her head and stepping away with pained eyes. “You have no right to me any longer. You could have! I have given copious chances. Asked a good few times or two more than I should have. It should have been one of us asking _Are we together?_ With a _yeah, you don’t even have to ask, what did you think this was, vhenan?_ and us being happy and content, hopeful for the future. And we’d have made sure each other was, we both know we would have put that as a priority. Do not get jealous when _you_ deny.” She trembled the whole time she was speaking, eyes watering with her passionate words.

 

“Ivy…”

 

“I wanted-” She cut herself off.

 

“Ivy, _vhenan-_ ”

 

“No. Enough. It was supposed to be friendship, Solas. Stop _doing_ this to us when I’m trying so hard to stay friends and hurting for it because you won’t give us this! I thought this parting would help us, I really did. It just made me need to _fill_ the empti- No.”

 

He watched her storm away in pain, hand to head and body quivering in misery as she cried silently, his fists clenched.

 

His own eyes stung and he looked up at the sky, seeing the cold stars twinkle down at him, looked away to the orange sands so beloved to his mate-

 

He could only close his eyes.

 

But even the dancing of her face in his mind and sounds of her quiet sobs from afar hit his head.

 

Lealos butted his head into Solas, mournful, offering comfort.

 

He had not realised he was crying until the hart licked the tears away and he put his head into the beasts neck, letting tears flow.

 

He just wanted to keep her safe, away from his mistakes, away from what being known as _his_ would have done to her before, during and after his duty was completed.

 

Let her see his jealousy and loathe him for it.

 

It was better to have her hate him, especially when she found his plans out, better he felt the hate, so he would keep her at arms length.

 

It would be better in the long run for them both.

 

_But stars, did he **burn** in pain from denying them both._

 

He gripped the fur between his fingers tight. “ _Ivy. I am so sorry._ ” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day Ivy woke to a very uncomfortable Lana shuffling on her side due to her stomach.

 

Ivy opened her eyes, reactively gripping her dagger before consciously loosening her hold. “Those last days, huh, lovely?”

 

“Yes! Just… a couple more weeks right?”

 

“Right.” She kissed the belly, hoping the little’un felt her love and hope for a good life, the hope that she’d get to see him often and he would live _long_ and _strong_ and _healthy_. Because this was a harsh life, compared to Earth. She felt exhausted suddenly, absolutely drained and oddly dizzy, knowing that she didn’t age and he wouldn’t live as long as her length of life… It made her want to bury herself back into her bedroll to think of losing them both. “Need me to get you anything?”

 

“Water.”

 

Ivy snorted in amusement. “You’re a mage, lovely. You can blast it into imagining.”

 

“True… But Vivienne’s water is nicest?”

 

“Alright… you better remember this if I ever get pregnant, this is Vivienne after all,” Ivy tiredly demanded with a grin, dressing, and she left when Lana smiled at her hopefully. She found the mages tent quickly, getting the water from an actually helpful Vivienne who asked for nothing in return (simply looking pleased to be so favoured) and coming back. “Here you go, my love. Anything else? Are you hungry?”

 

“Bit nibbly. But not outright wanting to devour anything.”

 

Ivy pondered and scrambled through her pouch. “Dragon jerky?”

 

Lana grinned and nodded. “Sounds good. Thanks,” She said when taking it, grateful.

 

“S’okay. Is it time to skedaddle?”

 

“I think so.”

 

“Oh good. By the way, Cullen will be meeting us in Val Royeaux.”

 

“Really?!” Lana squeaked happily.

 

Ivy grinned to herself as she flopped back down. “Thought you might like that. We’ll be there until you give birth and a week or two after, Nǚ'ér.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Hm? Oh, nothing. By the way, what’s that?” She asked of the cute necklace around her neck, but the little ball looked like it came from somewhere.

 

Lana looked at the little ball on a chain around her neck that slipped out and said when it clicked, “We made a detour to a place called Solasan, which is why we were gone so long. That name, right? Anyway, we had some of those shards on us and we were able to open up some doors. I remember Solas saying they were some sort of key, magic reverberating only in a certain frequency. There was this humungous chest but this was what drew my attention. It seems to have boosted my magical defence against fire. It’s dud now but the effects are real.”

 

Ivy’s eyes widened at that. Magic… could be boosted in some way? Her mind stuttered and stilled for a moment. “Well keep it on just in case it decides to flair up again by you putting magic into it; who knows if another Abyssal will come, hm?” Ivy winked at her laughter and kissed her forehead, leaving left the tent, putting head into hand for a moment. She was incredulous, hopeful.

 

_It was possible?_

 

_Items could do that?_

 

_Could they get home?!_

 

“Are you well, Champion?”

 

“Just the sun from just waking up…” She looked up and grinned reactively, remarking playfully, “Well if it isn’t my second favourite Champion!”

 

“Second favourite?” Hawke stated with his own grin, crossing arms. “You know more than one Champion?”

 

“Yeah. Me.”

 

Garrett laughed at her knowing grin. “You are something, Lady Godslayer.”

 

“A ‘ _Not sure what it is but something’_ something?”

 

“Let’s go with that,” Garett smirked at her. “I’ll be meeting up with another Warden, tracking down Livius and helping the Inquisition clear out the rest of the Western Approach. The Inquisition still has many resources devoted to clearing out other areas, but they’re nearly finished and will join us here in a few weeks. Then we’ll make plans of attacks back at Skyhold. I shall be delighted to buy you a drink there.”

 

“Sounds good. Until then Champion, do stay alive so I can see more of that pretty face of yours,” Ivy clapped his shoulder before leaving the area to go tend to Lealos and then stilling.

 

Solas was calmly feeding her boy, talking in low elvhen.

 

Not for long, as Lealos danced at seeing her and she smiled back, coming over. _‘Be friends,’_ She told herself, ignoring the ache in her chest at seeing him. ‘ _Be polite._ ’ There was a fake smile on her face. “Morning, Solas.”

 

“On’dhea, vhenan.”  _Good morning, my heart._  He bowed slightly, words quiet, but pleased to be in her presence.

 

“And how’s my boy?” She asked in a more jovial voice, making the large mount jitter happily. “My gorgeous, stupendous, _wonderful_ boy?!” He keened in delight and butted her hard when she got close enough, super happy. “I love you too, baby! You know, I think Lana will have a little boy. She wanted dragon jerky this morning. Mama always wanted fruit with me and meat with my brothers, Lealos.” He rumbled some kind of sound. “Yeah? You think a boy too? Alright, I’ll believe you.” She grinned cheesily at Solas before remembering herself and inquiring a bit more collectedly, “Is… he big for a hart?”

 

“Lealos is indeed very big and it seems he is still to grow.” The male ran a surprised hand down his flank, though he wished it was her back he was doing that to. “I am surprised. I have never seen a hart so big. From leg to shoulder, he is now taller than you whereas upon meeting you his head comfortably sat on yours.” It bewildered him.

 

Ivy looked at her boy. “Yeah, definitely taller than I recall. Why you still growing, ah? You don’t want me to be able to get up on you any longer or something?” He snorted at that, lifting a leg pointedly. “Er, yes, I… suppose that’s a viable way to get up.”

 

Solas coughed to hide his amusement, hand raising to mouth.

 

Lealos whuffed happily at Solas.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I can hop on that way. Stop being smug to Solas. But you’re making me feel like a dwarf here; and speaking of, who knows what Varric thinks of you! You’re now even taller than that War Nug Iron Bull has to use!” Lealos seemed happy with that comparison. “You like that do you? So how about I get on the War Nug and you have the delightful The Iron Bull-”

 

Lealos huffed, nudging her emphatically.

 

“No? Stop growing then.”

 

Lealos keened at her, giving sad eyes.

 

“What? What’chu want? What am I supposed to do about you growing? Huh?” He nipped at her clothing and tugged her closer, causing her to nearly fall over but she reached out on instinct, and Solas grabbed her flailing hand reactively. “Thanks, but gosh Lealos, you are getting strong buddy.” She took her hand out of his and pet her hart. He rumbled something and nuzzled into her, gentler. “Listen, I expect to get pregnant in the next year, you cannot be doing this. No rough play. Yes I love you.” She sighed, holding him close when he rumbled again.

 

“I… Ivy?” The elf asked. “The next year?”

 

“Solas, I want a child. I’ve decided, over the weeks in camp down here, that it will be in the next year. So again, Lealos, no pulling me all roughly. You have to protect me.” She stated. The hart rubbed against her, rumbling his content at that. “Good. You have to look after my baby to be as well.” She turned to the male. “As I said. Next year. It will… suit my plans.”

 

He had to know, had to know everything. “You had wanted there to be a father? And plans?”

 

“Yeah, I did. But time is running out for me. If I don’t choose a man then…” Ivy thought to whom she would be marrying to protect beautiful Orlais. Would the Grand Duke be a good father, a good lover and a good protector? Ivy could only hope so. “The choice will be made for me.”

 

Alarm raised in him. “Chosen for you?”

 

“Solas…” She sighed then, unsure how to go on. “Yes. Chosen for me. As a duty.”

 

_Uspar._

 

Solas recalled that name vividly and yet still nothing came up from the searches he’d done with his agents.

 

“Solas.” Ivy said in demand, staring him dead on, holding her hands palm up for him to take. “I want you. Father to my children. Husband to me. Say yes now. Let the past be. We both want it.”

 

“I cannot-”

 

“ **Vhenan,** ” Ivy said strongly, having no clue what it meant, but knowing he said it in affection and he looked at her in surprise, ears pulling down slightly acquiescently at her tone. That surprised her, shaking her out of her anger. She sighed after a quiet moment and softly spoke, “Let me… Let me be your _home,_ vhenan _._ ”

 

“I…” He shuddered, reaching out.

 

“Vhenan,” She said softly, hoping, _wishing_.

 

_My home._

 

He wished for home.

 

Needed to repent.

 

Needed his people, no matter how they hated him when he freed them.

 

His hands dropped before they touched hers. “I could not do it to you.”

 

It felt like a blow to her. “Jia,” Ivy said in Chinese, _home,_ and so _desperate_ before saying in Elvhen, hands shaking at his rejection, _begging_ , “ _Sathan._ ”

 

_Please._

 

“Tela, vhenan,” He stepped back, angst on his face.

 

_I cannot, my love._

 

Ivy hated the tear that fell down as she stared at him in utter pain, so cold against the heat of her cheek, feeling the wind blow into it, making it colder.

 

She wanted to cry, burst into tears, felt her whole body tremble and then _–_

**_No_ ** _._

 

She’d tried.

 

Countless times.

 

Never again.

 

Her heart hardened, vicious.

 

Her whole body stilled.

 

Her form relaxed.

 

She could attack this way, react to whatever he did.

 

That was Wing Chun, her martial art style.

 

She breathed out and brought herself up as she would in court, a fake smile on her face that reached her eyes perfectly.

 

His eyes widened at the near instant change.

 

“Ma nuvenin, Messere Solas. Ir vara.” _I shall leave._ She gave a grin, completely put on. “Dhea’him, Messere Solas!”

_Have a good day!_

She bowed formally and then left.

 

She was done.

 

Orlais needed protection.

 

It didn’t matter what Empress Celene planned.

 

She would outmanoeuvre her and look after what was hers against Corypheus and her own husband to be and whatever future enemy it had.

 

Ivy Montgomery was not a happy bunny any more. 

 

 

* * *

 

  

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama and oh yeah, aaaaangst. I'm guessing you may hate me for this - being so mean to Zevran, Ivy and Solas, that is! You requested that right? I'm sure you did (shifts guiltily) Ahem. Also the last line is only an inside joke to me. Lame Bastu is Lame.


	26. Remember Me To The One Who Lives There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for 450+ kudos!! It always makes me smile to see people enjoy this fic! Thanks for being around for over 100k words haha x

 

** Chapter Twenty Six **

 

 

 

Marcus watched his sister pace, worried for the Inquisitor.

 

The rest of the Inner Circle was there, along with the three advisors, Cullen falling in line with Ivy, completely in time with her.

 

A scream of pain had the two jittering, grasping each other.

 

“Ivy! MAMAE!”

 

The Scot went into the room instantly.

 

Cullen clenched his fists.

 

Marcus spoke up, “Pace, brother. _Pace._ ”

 

The Lion Commander did as his extended kin bid, agitated.

 

For ten minutes.

 

For twenty.

 

Thirty.

 

Forty.

 

Forty two-

 

A baby’s cry littered the place, all of them perking up.

 

It was another ten minutes before Ivy brought the baby out in orange dragon webbing and Cullen went right up to her. She looked up with a bright grin. “Cullen. You’ve a son. He’s _gorgeous._ ”

 

The Commander looked at him in awe, all red faced and angry looking, but with a cute nose and blinking the most golden of eyes – just like his own, but elven, and wide.

 

“Here.”

 

The Commander jittered at that and blurted, “How do I hold him?!”

 

There were snorts all around.

 

“Like I am!” Ivy laughed in delight at Cullen’s foolishness. “Just keep his neck straight. You’ll get it instantly.” She handed the baby over to the shaking father. “See?” She looked over and waved the two other advisors over. “It’s easy.”

 

“Yeah…” He breathed, tears hitting his eyes at his own child being in his arms, _finally_.

 

Months of worrying, of being told to stay at Skyhold by all parties, of not seeing the woman he admired for so long…

 

Josephine and Leliana were over straight away, cooing and adoring the child.

 

Others clapped him on the back in congrats, but he nodded absently, only having eyes for his son.

 

_His son!_

_Maker’s breath._

 

Ivy understood this and stepped back, with her brother gently tugging her away by the hand covertly and walking her out the room.

 

Marcus looked at her knowingly. “Meimei?”

 

She slumped against the wall, exhausted. “I’m so _envious_ … It just, worked out for her. _Fuck._ ”

 

Marcus had heard everything from her with that male, finally. All about everything happening with Solas, the friendship, the rejections, the dalliances, the _everything_. Naturally he thought that guy was the biggest fucking moron out there for doing this to his sister, probably the most up for grabs woman in Orlais or even Thedas considering Lana was practically married to Cullen by now. He also knew the decision on her shoulders, about marriage to Grand Duke Gaspard. Marcus disliked both of the idiot men for her, but knew the sense of duty and honour they’d both grown up with.

 

It’d been what gave him his motivations to be a slave in Minrathous and all the despicableness that entailed to socially protect her by clawing his way up to an excellent position.

 

It’s been what made her a dragon hunter and all the danger that curtailed to get him to her, stat.

 

She’d been in Orlais ten years and loved the country.

 

If it would help, she would do it

 

Duty first.

 

He would be there for her as family and do as she needed.

 

Because duty first.

 

“I know, meimei. I know.”

 

Her voice wobbled. “Is it so bad to want to be a mama with a good man?”

 

“No. Not at all,” Marcus soothed. “But when you do be a mama, me and Dorian will love little Ivy, and they will have the best fashion sense, be the best little mage and be the best little martial artist the world will see!”

 

Ivy laughed, throat all choked up. “They’re gonna be so arrogant!”

 

“They’ll have a reason! We’re _amazing!_ ”

 

She laughed and hugged him tight. “True!”

 

Solas listened intently from inside the room, heart shattering all over again at the love between them, free and hopeful and joyful.

 

His People couldn’t stand him.

 

People, because Marcus also had that spark.

 

And he was half frightened about what that meant.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

A couple days later, Lana was handed a couple letters from the court from Ivy.

 

She looked over them slowly. “It’s congratulations… from the Grand Duke? And Empress Celene?”

 

“Yes, Nǚ'ér.” She sat down on the side of the bed. “Your gifts from them are outside.”

 

“Why not both in one?”

 

“I will be honest, daughter dearest. Both want different things from me, but no less do they mean this.” She tapped the paper. “Lana, it is not known outside of the Inquisitions inner circle, and indeed not all of them know, that I think of you as a daughter. But to Orlais,” She touched the letters. “It will be important. So, I must ask now. Do you formally accept me as your mother? This will affect little one here.”

 

“What happens if I do?”

 

“I am part of the court-”

 

“I don’t want him part of that.” Lana said instantly, protectively clutching the blond baby closer.

 

So... there went that out. Ivy should be happy, but honestly, it just gave her another reason not to fight the marriage to Gaspard. It wasn’t him that she had a problem with, of course. He was also her age, though showing it a bit more compared to her mid-twenties looks and he was loved by his Chevaliers, making sure they stayed as honourable as he could but he was only one man and she admired that. He was a fine leader of an army; he could, at the very least, protect a family. It was also said he adored the wife he’d married when younger.

 

Yes Ivy could leave, but to simply abandon her country, which actually did look after her well, and to abandon the normal and noble folks when she could _do_ something for them…

 

She just couldn’t abandon that. She was too dutiful, even if the country looked favourably on her only for what she could give it. What else did she have?

 

“Alright. Then think nothing of this conversation, Lana, darling.”

 

“Ivy, you are still the one I think of as-”

 

Ivy kissed her on the forehead, hushing her. “I understand, my lovely.” She stroked her cheek fondly. “Rest well. I’ll send in Mama Cook in an hour to see to your belly, and thus his!” She laughed, kissing the little mister on his cheek, and left, leaving Lana content. Ivy went to her room after she’d informed Mama Cook and slumped on the closed doors she leant against, breathing out heavily.

 

Her eyes closed.

 

“Your envy is appalling, Ivy. Now get to work,” She demanded of herself.

 

After a small moment breathing, she went to her desk and began writing up letters to both Grand Duke and Empress Celene.

 

_Dear Grand Duke Gaspard,_

_Or perhaps I may be so bold as to simply call you Gaspard in such letters?_

_My lovely Inquisitor Lana is most pleased with the gift of the cradle! An utterly splendid work she is looking forward to rocking her baby to sleep in, and a most thoughtful gift too, knowing the days that lie ahead for her and Commander Cullen, leaving her child in the tender mercies of others whilst having to be out fighting the demonic rifts of the sky…_

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

  

It was when Lana slept in the library and she cradled the baby in her arm that Ivy next saw Solas, the male having been dodging her.

 

The elf stopped upon seeing her as he entered, so magnificently motherly in a simple light blue house dress, pleasing to his eye and making his chest wrench at the sight of her in this caring position, the House Montgomery embellished orange blanket of the baby trailing far past her knees as she rocked him to sleep gently, murmuring some soft kind of lullaby.

 

“ _Are you going to Scarborough fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there, for he was once, a true love of mine…_ ” She hummed something, not the greatest at singing, but, there was heart there and the tune carried well enough. Her chin was lightly against the fuzzy blonde hair as she murmured, “You’re so squidgy cute, Arthur.”

 

He sighed in want, longing for his own child in her arms, dragging her close to the fire and enclosing his arms around the both of them and giving his love to them, magic floating about them.

 

She heard him, a little alarmed at being caught in such a position, stilling and nearly jerking to reach for a hidden dagger, but gave him a warm smile from beneath her mask instead. “Messere Solas! You surprised me! My apologies for the lack of my being a good host, but I do hope you’ve been enjoying my home once more, and all the lovely meetings as per usual?”

 

He paused but nodded contritely, eyes sloping down to the child in her arms.

 

Ivy ignored the apologetic nature of the nod and continued with the half fake warmth that served her well with nobles that pissed her off. “I am most pleased! You know, I do believe Dupois wishes for another meeting with you soon? I would be so very happy to set up a meeting for you. He rather likes you. Good link to have for excellent vintages in the future.”

 

“That would be most kind of you,” He replied softly.

 

“Of course!” Ivy grinned, and then winked at him, “I am a kind person after all, and do like it when things turn out well for all. He’ll be positively _delighted_ to see his favourite customer!”

 

He bowed gratefully in reply, feeling like he was hit in the stomach for such actions from her.

 

The difference between the genuine Ivy Montgomery he knew and this… this Champion of Orlais Ivy was… _astounding_.

 

There was such a wide gap that it was like talking to two different women completely.

 

“I wonder, do you wish to hold the little one? I need to use the privy, you see, but do not want to wake up Lana after such an exhausting first week. She has worked so hard to learn what she can to be the best mother she can, and so young, too. It is good to see her rest when she can.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Wonderful!” Ivy grinned again and held the child out. “If you could…?”

 

Solas took the baby tenderly, their arms brushing, taking in her warm scent as he did before looking down at the… rather Elvhen child? Negating the pointed ears, he could almost imagine this child completely elf with his features. He blinked at the baby. “Oh.”

 

“Y’know…” Ivy said, suddenly so much more _her_ with that one word and tone, seeing his reaction and then looking at the baby. “I thought the same. As Sera would say, _so elfy, righ’?_ ” She cracked a grin, sincerer than before when he chuckled, revelling in this moment.

 

“You are right.”

 

“Of course I am. It’s right there.”

 

The mage looked at her for a moment, remarking lowly, “It is.” His eyes looked to the baby quickly, admiring the fresh face when her eyes looked to him, wise to his actions. “Ivy… do not let her mark the babe’s face when it comes to it. It does… not mean what she thinks it does. Not in my travels of the Fade. They are slave markings, to the gods. I could not have any child I-”

 

_Not have any child possibly related to me bearing such revolting marks._

 

After all, if she felt this child her grandson, so would he.

 

“I understand. I will do what I can, but he is not my son. I can only guide and plead.”

 

“That is all I can ask. Thank you.” He did not want her gone so quickly, not when they were talking. “I have truly not seen a child born of human and elf so Elvhen.”

         

There was a calmness here in the moment. The fire crackled gently, the scent of books and ink surrounded them and of course it wouldn’t be a place of Ivy’s without a bit of dragon bone somewhere; a perfectly positioned wing on the wall and gleaming cleanly. “Yes.” She wasn’t leaving just yet. She fiddled with the webbing end of the baby wrap and fondly stared at the child, a little enamoured with the sight of him holding a baby.

 

He wanted to keep her here, extend this tender moment.

 

She didn’t want to leave.

 

Solas went on quietly, “The song you sung...?”

 

“Ah. Scarborough Fair.” Ivy sighed, thinking about the world she came from and touching the babies’ cheek, stroking. “From before I ever came to Orlais. It’s centuries old. Not so much the lyrics, but the tune… That song and one other I always get a bit confused about. Scarborough Fair and Greensleeves. Perhaps you’ll catch me singing them to this wee bairn sometime. Of course, they leave in a few days so… perhaps not.” She looked at the baby then up at him, caught in his gaze for a soft minute, her heart skipping a beat and chest tightening at the pure warmth in his eyes. “Excuse me.” She gave a curtsey and left.

 

He watched her go before thinking to himself out loud, “Scarborough Fair?” as he looked after the baby, smiling gently down at the child.

 

He’d not heard of such a place.

 

“Mm, Solas?”

 

He turned to the mother on the sofa he'd noted but not paid attention to. “Lana.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

“Scarborough Fair. Have you heard it?”

 

“I… have, but how did you hear of it?” Lana blinked awake, stunned for a moment.

 

“From Ivy.”

 

“Ah.” Lana pretended to relax, closing her eyes and sighing out with a little song. “Folk song. Not sure where I heard it from though, from her I think, months back.” She paused a couple heartbeats and asked, “Is he okay?”

 

“Yes. He is falling asleep,” He murmured softly, not yet wanting to give him up as he fell into a light sleep, “Would you like him back?”

 

“No. You and Ivy… He falls asleep to you two.”

 

Solas didn’t have to much wonder of the exact reason as to why that was.

 

“It’s good. I need the rest.” Lana sighed again, rubbing her only somewhat bloated stomach and slunk down on the chaise longue further. “I’m going to miss this piece of furniture.”

 

“I’m sure Ivy will allow you to take it away with you. How is Cullen with him?” Suddenly, he was protective over the baby in his hands now he’d held him and thought of being his grandfather.

 

Hm.

 

Grandfather before father.

 

That father subject should definitely be fixed.

 

Still, this little one was part of his family now.

 

“He just wants to stare at Cullen’s fur pauldrons when baba is around him and Cullen just wants to stare at him.”

 

That made Solas chuckle. “It is quite amazing.” He quickly gave a check over the baby with his magic to make sure of the health of his development and blinked.

 

_How?_

 

_How was there… another of his People?_

 

He swallowed, hiding it quickly by humming the tune he just heard, a little wrong but close enough.

 

_The mark._

 

It had to be.

 

He asked quickly, “May I check over you with my magic, heal what I can? Relieve any new aches?” He may have to do this again and again if she asked, but he’d _know._

 

“That’d be… That’d be great, thanks,” She said, grateful.

 

He touched a hand over her head, balancing the baby with ease in one arm and running his magic through her.

 

No.

 

She wasn’t.

 

Confusion ran in him but he pushed it to the side and focused a little bit more intently, making sure wounds were taken care of, that she was well on her way to being as fit and healthy she was before the birth and pregnancy.

 

“There.”

 

“I feel better already! Thanks, Solas!”

 

They both heard the baby babble and looked at him at the same time.

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been so loud, huh?” Ivy came back in, a knowing grin on her features, the bear pelt now around her shoulders as Solas handed the baby back to his mother.

 

Solas looked at the fur, pleased she still had it.

 

It was the great bear he’d killed to keep her warm when she’d come back from the battle of Haven, guarding-

 

He looked to Lana, playing peek-a-boo with her son.

 

He smiled.

 

Hm, yes.

 

Solas was proud of this, of her, of them both.

 

He gave a quiet bow to them both and went deeper into the library.

 

Lana looked at her, worried, questioning, completely over the crush on Solas when she had her baby in her arms and her bright future with Cullen.

 

Ivy closed her eyes in pain and shook her head, opening them with a wobbly smile.

 

“Oh…” The elf said softly, fingering the arm of the chair absently as she stared behind her at the last place Solas was.

 

“You like this thing yes?” She tapped the chaise longue with her slippered foot. “I have another in my room in Skyhold. Exact same. Take it to your room if your one isn’t good enough, Nǚ'ér. Tell Vivienne Comte Augier if she doesn’t believe you. She’ll soon get it.”

 

“How do you _know_ all these people?”

 

“It’s Val Royeaux, dear heart, I know _many_ people. Vivienne happens to know the rest. It’s why we work so well together.” Ivy winked at her and gave a small curtsey. “Without further ado, I also have bed to get to. Goodnight, Nǚ'ér, my little love. Don’t let Phillipe start cooing over baby too long. He finishes work at the theatre very soon.”

 

Lana’s eyes widened and she scrambled up as gently as she could, hurrying out of there with her baba after Ivy who snickered to herself, entirely too amused.

 

Phillipe could go on for _hours_.

 

And she was still doing her best to stop Varric from telling Cullen that the first time she saw Phillipe she saw _all_ of Phillipe.

 

Quite happily too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

Ivy grinned, seeing them all off at the pier, fondly watching as the boat went. She turned to her brother. “You could’ve gone.”

 

He slung an arm over her shoulders. “Nah. I think I should be here for now.”

 

“Dorian misses you already.”

 

Marcus chuckled and shook her playfully. “Did you see that mega pout he had going on? He’s so spoilt.”

 

“I did! How could I miss it? _All_ of them were giving him exasperated looks.”

 

“ _I_ was giving him exasperated looks.”

 

A throat cleared, and the duo turned to see a man there, in plain noble clothes and an ungarnished mask.

 

Ivy narrowed her eyes speculatively and then her lips quirked up at his bearing; one of a soldier, of a man used to commanding. “Messere De Chalons?” She murmured and Marcus raised his brows.

 

_The Grand Duke?_

 

“I did not wish to intrude on a private goodbye.”

 

“Thank you. The Inquisition has slowly become like a family to me.” Ivy gave a little grin, crossing her arms and thus closing the bright orange dragon webbing shawl around her, but still baring her shoulders and the tops of her bosom rather nicely in this golden coloured hide dress. Her neck was decorated in dragon scales of a Kaltenzahn and in the middle was the smallest dragon fang she could find for it, but even then it still dipped and was cradled between her breasts and when she walked up to him, she saw that his eyes couldn’t help but flicker down to them.

 

They were rather… bouncy in this dress.

 

Iron Bull had certainly commented on them with the ever-charming _Nice rack, Hunter_.

 

Why did she like that arse?

 

Oh. Dragon horns.

 

Right.

 

“Your Excellency, please, call me Gaspard.”

 

Well, now was as good a time as any to get to know the man, right? “If you call me Ivy then that would be lovely. I did stay to try and get to know you after all. But I am a busy woman…” She put a finger to her lip. “My brother and I were actually about to set up the exhibit for the Abyssal High Dragon before we send on the head to the Inquisition in a month.” Frederik had bargained to have the head there until a month after Inquisitor Lana left for the Inquisition and she’d agreed. “Perhaps you would like to join us? I could use another man to lift for me,” Ivy waggled her brows playfully and he chuckled.

 

Marcus smiled at the little trick she used on men.

 

“I’d be honoured to help you at the University.”

 

“Great!” She then lifted the mask she’d taken off for the Inquisition, knowing it meant something to them when she did.

 

He murmured, stepping forward, “Allow me, Milady Ivy?”

 

The Grand Duke had requested, not demanded, patiently waiting with a hand out in askance.

 

“Thank you, Milord Gaspard.”

 

Gaspard stopped at that and then nodded at her ruefully. “Perhaps just our names would be far better, Ivy.”

 

“ _Definitely._ ” She emphasised, making him smirk and gave the mask over. “That felt too odd in my mouth.”

 

He did so, gently lifting the mask to her face and placing it on her, tying the ribbon of her mask firmly and clipping it into the bun of her hair, amused at the shorter strands at the front of her hair escaping in loose wisps, whipping out like… well… dragon wings in fact. He moved to the front of her, and was pleased that he’d never be ashamed to be her man if she would have him. He was determined to have the throne, but to have the talented dragon hunter by his side that would bring the population to love him? That’d be _excellent_. Hopefully they could produce an heir quickly, further pleasing the populace and assuring his reign to hold far less assassins in its future, and hopefully bringing more happiness in their marriage.

 

She was the best chance at the future he wanted and she was giving him a shot. There’s no way he would not treat her as an Empress should be treated. After all, it was rather famed that she played The Game so fair-handedly that she wasn’t even part of it anymore, untouched but not untouchable, allied with all and no one at the same time.

 

Both himself and his cousin agreed she was the safest option for peace between them, and if he got the throne in a few short summers as well as a wife as famed as she?

 

Superb deal made.

 

Gaspard held an elbow out, and with only a small second of hesitation, Ivy took it.

 

“I have read several of your essays over the years. Tell me, dear hunter, did you really lead some of my Chevaliers to battle against a dragon in northern Orlais?”

 

Ivy brightened up, smiling widely at him as she lit up about her favourite subject. “Oh now _this_ is a good story! So you know Raoul?”

 

“My Fifth-In-Command? The stern, silent one whose scowl is apparent even under the full mask he wears?”

 

“Oh yes, Gaspard. _Him._ Not so scowly then, let me tell you! Was a bit off a goofball, actually.”

 

“We… do talk of the same Raoul, correct? Raoul Le Cecile?”

 

“Mhm. Bit of his ear gone? Yes. It happened on this trip actually.” She then turned around for a second with a happy smile at telling a dragon tale. “C’mon, bro. So! _This guy…_ ”

 

Marcus followed with an affectionate grin on his face, chaperoning them.

 

 

* * *

  

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And baby is called Arthur!


	27. Favoured

 

 

 

** Chapter Twenty Seven **

  

 

Ivy went over the reports she’d had on the Inquisition.

 

Fallow Mire and undead and Avvar. Storm Coast and Blades of Hessarian and darkspawn in caves. Hissing wastes and tombs and Venatori activity. Emerald Graves and the Chateau d’Onterre and Noble Fairbanks. Exalted Plains and the undead threat to the ramparts and golden halla. And of course going back into the Hinterlands, because apparently that place would have no end of problems.

 

Then there were the problems all the members of Skyhold had.

 

The Scot had even met with Josephine and let her stay at her home for a week during her House of Repose problem. Ivy had soon begun to make links with the Antivan’s family after their name was brought out of the mud once more to give them a boost. The woman was ever thankful, and with her help of Antivan know-how, they’d begun to set up some shops, as a business of Marcus she’d given him the funds for was make-up. It was a _huge_ business in Orlais, make-up, but with Marcus’s old degree into pharmaceuticals coming through, his products were the best of quality and an instant hit. Marcus had even gone to Antiva to meet with Josephine’s family, and found the youngest, Yvette, was quite captured by the thought of make-up as an art form and gone to work there for them. The family were pleased greatly by this, and Ivy had to grin at even _more_ Antivan red coming her way.

 

She felt for Lana, having just given birth some short months ago and dealing with all that bullshit. Still, she’d given help where she could, advising Grand Duke Gaspard to recall some troops here, place them elsewhere, sending along reports or help to different camps around Orlais. Wanting to keep his men healthy and whole, he mainly agreed with what she suggested and when he didn’t she asked why and he explained. This way she got to understand the troops. The only time they’d come to almost blows is the treatment of Chevaliers on their first night, roughing up and attacking the weak. Grand Duke Gaspard agreed, but couldn’t do anything about it lest the whole of his troops turn on him and discredit the country’s armed forces which would look bad to rival countries.

 

Ivy had inward thoughts about that, but coaxed a promise to try and put a penalty fee on it should they be caught. He'd agreed, but she knew he wouldn’t look into it too much to save the hide of his army. She’d then quite happily gone to make sure St. Clements both went into the policing ranks of Orlais and would go out on those graduate nights and disrupt all they could and _boy_ had they disrupted. She’d been utterly disgusted by what she’d found and fuck Gaspard if he thought she wouldn’t be changing it up when they were on the throne.

 

Revolting.

 

Phillipe knocked on the door and came in at her call. “Your Excellency, Empress Celene has arrived!”

 

“I’ll be right there, Phillipe. Make sure she has all she wants.”

 

“Of course!”

 

She smiled faintly to herself as she finished up a letter.

 

In a month would be the Wintersend Ball.

 

For now, she had an Empress to continue to make believe she had the control.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lana longingly thought of her nearly six-month-old baby in Skyhold, under the care of The Iron Bull and his Chargers.

 

It sounded terrible to do – a tiny baby and a killing-loving Qunari like The Iron Bull?

 

But the big old horned guy seemed to coo endlessly over her little boy and the Chargers enamoured with him too; even Cullen looked at her with a nod of disbelieving approval. Naturally they’d paid extra, temporarily turning Ivy’s old room into a nursery. It was at the back of the fortress and he’d promised to stay only in Skyhold, no bringing baby anywhere.

 

Everyone else in the Inner Circle had come and everyone was changed, on horses and nearing the gates of The Winter Palace.

 

A keening sound and the Inquisitor grinned. “Lealos!”

 

It was just the hart, merrily coming up to them.

 

No rider to be seen, though there was a cry of annoyance from what was a stable hand, coming around in fancy clothing and chasing down the hart.

 

The hart was even bigger than before and likely a third taller than her mount, frightening her already chunky horse. He came prancing over, head forward and seeking affection with a merry bleet. Her horse began to back up but Lealos screeched and the horse completely froze in fear but Lealos didn’t care, shoving his head into Lana and bleeting again.

 

“Lealos!”

 

Dorian perked up at that masculine voice and accent that sent shivers down his spine. “Marcus! Oh… _Marcus_.”

 

The man came up, looking absolutely gallant in tight body showcasing Orlesian noble clothing, double breasted, but with an overcoat that the back fell to his ankles. It all had a Tevinter mage flair to it, an extra cape-like layer from the top of his neck to half way down his biceps and an open neck like Dorian’s usual coat, but completely in dragon scales. It was all in dragon webbing with scales for flair along trims, but the cape and trim was that of a more golden Fereldan Frostback, and it stood out. Naturally it had great protection and resistance to blades, but Marcus had demurred on Ivy’s _in-your-face-with-eye-watering-colour_ style just to get a reaction from nobles, and went with the softer green-blue of the Greater Mistral webbing for the main bulk of colour for his clothing. It was showy enough and protective enough that Ivy backed off and he was happy with it.

 

He was also decked out in dragon bone pauldrons, a dragon face on each shoulder, meticulously crafted for a look of fierceness. A mask matched, blue pearlescent scales dangling from a pure white mask of dragon bone, with the house insignia on his forehead in gold and horns were carved upwards from his head. A blue sash was over his shoulder, signifying his link to the Inquisition like they wore, but on his was another Montgomery insignia over the heart, the Kaltenzahn skull encircled by three bold purple thistles. The sash was tied at the end, but on one of the loose pieces was the insignia of House Pavus.

 

Dorian did not wish to say tears were in his eyes from the sight of his gorgeous lover so uncaringly holding a sign of his male lover in front of his court, from those that would look down on them and their relationship, but damnit all they were there and he wanted to drag the male away for his own private reunion.

 

Marcus came over to the mage, grabbed the front of his clothing and dragged Dorian down, kissing him hard. “I missed you, amatus,” Marcus stated with a frown, “You are not allowed to go without me for this long again. Us Montgomery’s love hard and long, but we’re needy and hate lack of touch. Now hurry up and do what you have to do and then come find me for dances and affection and me taking up _all_ of your time.” He strode to the front of the group, leaving behind a flustered but ever so pleased Dorian while the rest had their own amusement at it.

 

“Aha… yes.”

 

Marcus bowed low to them in the Orlesian style, hands swirling, and rose again. “Inquisition! Welcome to Halamshiral! I will have a dance from all of you, and Ivy will too.” Lealos trilled a sound at the name Ivy. “How do you have so much energy still? We took you out for the ride! Both of us on you!”

 

Lana giggled. “Perhaps Lealos also wishes to dance?”

 

The hart pranced and danced, showing he had the moves as the stable hand came up, breathing hard, hands on knees. “Lord Montgomery, I’m so sorry…” He coughed, trying to breathe hard. “He just has so much _energy._ ”

 

Lealos snorted at the lacking stable hand.

 

“Lealos!” Marcus snapped, making the hart look at him, alert and awaiting orders. “You will burn off this energy and come back to the stable. You wish to protect our little dragon hunter lady we adore? Then practise your speed for battle. Ready? GO!” Marcus bellowed and the hart shot off, rushing to somewhere. “There, when he comes back he will be tired, so make sure you care for him properly, or my sister will be highly disappointed in you. Go tend to the Inquisitions horses.” He then turned to the Inquisition, taking them in as the stable hand scattered. “You all… wore the same.”

 

Cullen rose a brow. “Problem?”

 

“Not at all. I expected fancier and elegant dress for the ladies, but this shows group power.”

 

“Good.”

 

It…

 

Marcus gulped to himself.

 

It also…

 

Bah!

 

He didn’t think he’d be emotional from such clothing they wore, red dress shirts and gold trim with that blue sash over their left shoulders and tied at the right of their waists, but he was. Fuck. He wasn’t a royalist, neutral about the monarchy of Britain like most of their British population, but god fucking damnit if what they wore wasn’t a blast from the past. The males of the royal family traditionally wore that and even if he didn’t give a crap about royalty, especially from a world he was no longer part of, it hit him hard.

 

It was a taste of _Earth_ home, and it was slapping him in the face.

 

He bowed once more, lower, deferential without meaning to, needing to inform his sister, lest they both break down because _fucking hell_ if he wasn’t needing time to himself.

 

He _missed_ his family, _loved_ them.

 

It wasn’t them, but it was the closest he’d ever been to Earth culture whilst here.

 

“It is good to see you all. I will be pleased to dance with you all. Until then, enjoy Halamshiral.” Marcus bowed and then strode away, powerful and purposeful, finding Ivy already inside talking happily to some dwarf merchant about something whilst in the vestibule. “Ivy.”

 

She smiled and looked around, only to frown from under her mask. “Marcus?”

 

“The library, please?”

 

“I… Yes.” Ivy looked at him before turning to her companion. “Please excuse me, dear.”

 

“Of course, my Lady Godslayer.”

 

He followed his prettied-up sister to the library and they entered and it took all of a second for him to kick the door close and hug her tight, lifting her up and burying his face into her neck. He breathed out heavily. “I miss our training hall so fucking much.”

 

“Marcus…? What’s wrong?” She asked, so innocent and earnest and he looked up at her, wishing to help him.

 

“Just… The Inquisition is here.”

 

“Really?” She said in excitement. “Cassandra’s here? Did Lana bring- Is Dorian looking- Is… Is _Solas_ … Ah.” She looked away, gulping and then hugged him to her, uncaring how weak she may look. “I _missed_ them.”

 

Missed her daughter and her daughter’s son.

 

Missed her sister.

 

 _Missed Solas_.

 

He clutched her to him, uncaring how she messed his hair, needing to hold his head to her body and him needing to feel the comfort of his sibling, of his Earth.

 

“I’m… I’m not ready for them.”

 

“They’ll know soon.”

 

“Yes, they will.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ivy stepped to the crier.

 

“I’m just saying _you call out any of my Inquisition rudely, I will still your presence into the University._ ” Ivy warned with a grin and held a hand out. “Let me see it.” The caller parchment was put into her hands and her eyes roved over it. She huffed after she read it. “When you call me, this person here,” She tapped the name, uncaring of his gasp. “Shall be called out immediately after myself and Marcus. Solas shall be known not as Servant, but Magical Expert, Fade Specialist, One of the Favoured of House Montgomery. Do you hear me?” She warned, hating that she was giving into her wants, but if all went well tonight, then it would be best to keep him known as hers.

 

“Yes, Milady! Magical, Fade, Favoured!”

 

“Good. Same goes for the Tevinter; he will have One of the Favoured of House Montgomery, too. As will the Pentaghast.”

 

“Y-Yes, Milady!”

 

“Wonderful, come to me after and I shall have to see what you offer the University with my own eyes.”

 

His eyes widened behind his mask, knowing that a personal overseeing from the Professor would practically guarantee him a place and being part of the University. That would keep his family on the _in_ with the upper crust. “Yes, Milady!”

 

“I heard you have a painters’ eye. Ah, and maybe put a bit of pizzazz into calling out the names?” She handed him a piece of paper. “I do so enjoy some frivolity,” Ivy smiled at him and nodded her head to go to her calling position. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people don't like the Ball part, but I had fun writing the little stories of nobility that are upcoming so hopefully you won't mind a couple chapters of Halamshiral?


	28. What's Your Party Name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm celebrating the last of the end of term exams by posting this! I will be sure to update 'Heuristically Speaking' this weekend x

 

** Chapter Twenty Eight **

 

 

“And now presenting!” The crier called out, “His Excellency, Grand Duke Gaspard De Chalons!”

 

The male walked down the stairs and bowed but then rose, awaiting his companion as he stared forward.

 

“Presenting!”

 

Gaspard stiffened, expecting for Ivy to be claimed as his companion.

 

“Honoured Professor Dragon Hunter, Her Excellency, Ivy Montgomery, wearing the most wonderful mask today!”

 

Ivy cheerfully stepped down the stairs, stepping slowly to Gaspard.

 

He turned to her, only to jerk away and then stop and stare at her new mask. It was completely a helmet, a small model replica of a Kaltenzahn, pure white dragon bone, the open, snarling mouth revealing the bottom half of her face, a smirk of red lipstick painted there and the eyes of the mask were slits hidden under a heavy brow. Horns extended on slightly past her head from the jaw around her own jaw and up to the top. The whole thing clearly had some sort of intense magical cold resistance, making it flare with blue steamy magic, quite like the breath of the dragon itself. The attention to detail made him think for just one moment it was an actual dragon, hand going to a weapon.

 

Then her head tilted and her lips raised knowingly and he felt foolish, but quickly looked over the woman.

 

The dress was also of Kaltenzahn, but certainly not as daring as she usually went, dual layers in a tight frosty dark blue outer layer that went around the biceps, trimmed in white dragon bone horns, and it tied up in a bow at the front of her chest just under an almost heaving bosom. The silken white bow fell to around her mid thighs matching long flowing sleeves that nearly touched her knees. The bow also held two dragon fangs on top of it. The under layer was the bold blood orange that peeped over the top by being a stiff high neck that went up to the back of her ears and it also folded over her legs to dance around her shins and lengthened inside the sleeves and back of the dress to nearly trail the ground. Pretty little bejewelled slippers covered her feet, white to match the bow and bone mask, and a small Inquisition sash was tied around her left wrist.

 

Gaspard made his way down the stairs and breathing in sharply when,

 

“Accompanying her, Lord Marcus Montgomery, brother of Her Excellency, maker of the finest make-up we are all wearing tonight!”

 

He looked back to see the brother join her left side but made his way to the front of the hall.

 

“Ivy. This is your doing, isn’t it?” Marcus murmured in amusement, chuckling when Ivy turned her head to him, grin obvious. “You are so cheeky. How old are you?”

 

“Oh please, tell me you don’t enjoy it.”

 

“Shan’t.”

 

“Accompanying them, Magical Expert, Fade Specialist, One of the Favoured of House Montgomery, Solas with the nice hat!”

 

The Elven male widened his eyes but easily stepped forward to the right side of the woman he cherished most. “Ivy?” He murmured, wondering, unable to help but stare at her and her outfit, feeling his chest clench at her nearness and his magic fluttered wildly, mouth-watering at the sight and scent of her. He wanted her beyond anything, swallowing the built up saliva.

 

Ivy sighed out happily, warmed at the presence of him and wishing to drag him to a room and get properly reacquainted, even as she’d decided another avenue to walk on in her life. “Couldn’t help it, Messere Solas. I was not pleased by your lowering to servant in my country. Also, yes, the caller is right, nice hat. Hopefully this calling protects you in court.”

 

He bowed to her, ears perked up higher than usual as his magic flowed around him with joy at her nearness. “Thank you.”

 

“Accompanying them, Princess Cassandra Pentaghast, prettiest of Seekers and seventy-eighth in line to the Nevarran throne!”

 

Cassandra came up to them. “Must you have?” But there was a pleased underlying tone in her voice.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Accompanying them, Dorian of House Pavus, One of the Favoured of House Montgomery, and likely the most fabulous moustache in here!”

 

“ _Ivy!_ ” Dorian hissed to Ivy, who snickered a little at his mortified but somehow pleased voice.

 

She then walked down the stairs in time with Marcus with the trio following instantly. “Marcus, was that… was that the Lord Olivier?”

 

“I thought he was still strapped to Lord De La Croix’s bedposts?”

 

“De La Croix? I thought it was that other guy, Pieter something?”

 

“Him too, usually, and Lady Joslynn and Du Meniere and three others I can’t recall the name off from the top of my head; that’s why he’s constantly tied up for being a bad boy.”

 

Ivy snickered. “Ooh. Kinky. Up for lots of slap and tickle, huh? Hey, Marcus, De La Croix’s over there flirting with Lord Olivier’s opponent in brass instruments making, Lady Delilah. I heard that Lord De La Croix was so bad in bed and loved rope play that Lord Olivier was trying to be so flexible in bed that he could-”

 

“Suck himself to get any pleasure?” Her brother added dryly.

 

Solas couldn’t help but quip, “Talk about tooting your own horn.”

 

The siblings snorted in unison and burst into snickers as Dorian sighed and tried not to look amused as Cassandra made a ‘ugh’ sound that wasn’t as disgusted as it should be.

 

“Nooo,” Ivy moan-laughed, feeling utterly wonderful to be back by his side again and disliking herself greatly for it. He also smelt magnificent today. Wow, what cologne was he wearing? “I forgot about this side of you. How did I forget it?”

 

“ _Yesss_ keep ‘em coming!” Marcus said happily.

 

“Apparently I will, considering De La Croix is highly unable to,” Solas smirked down at a now giggling Ivy who was putting a hand to her mouth to hide the laughter, relieved to be in her presence and scent. His own power had grown immensely as he’d finally found a way to tap into the defences at Skyhold. He emptied his own weakened magical core, sucking in as much energy from the protections he could to stretch his core out and then worked on putting the magic back into the defences when his own regrew. His Solasan shards had greatly helped him in his investigations, using them first before he tried it with himself. So now, now he could detect when she was around or who had touched her to even greater heights than before, simply by her scent being muffled by others.

 

And she had been touched.

 

His eyes went to Gaspard De Chalons, position and body forcefully having to be normal rather than predatory. This would not do. There would be a way to fix that. This man was in direct competition to the woman he wanted, the one who seemed completely fine with him once more. He could only hope that meant her verbal defences against him had dropped.

 

That he could _apologise_.

 

That he could then keep all challengers to his claim of her backed off as he prowled around and kept her safe.

 

The five of them bowed to the Empress Celene.

 

“Cousin, my dear sister.”

 

“Cousin Gaspard, Your Excellency. We are always honoured when your presence graces our court, and Lady Ivy and company, I hope you enjoy the splendour that is the Winter Palace.”

 

Ivy was about to reply but was cut off by Gaspard, only widening her smile to hide her annoyance.

 

“Don’t waste our time with pleasantries, Celene. We have business to conclude.”

 

“We will meet for negotiations after we have seen to our other guests, cousin. I hope the peace talks end with good news for all?” Celene looked to Ivy who demurred by her eyes looking away to the ground for the smallest of moments purposefully, even if her head didn’t move. Celene’s eagle eyes caught that and went on, “Or, at least, some news.”

 

“Of course, cousin.” Gaspard turned, hearing the Inquisition being called out as guests of the Empress and the Dragon Hunter and staring at the red suited people for a moment before turning to Ivy. “I shall leave you to welcome your guests and later hope you do not mind me taking all the dances I can from you, ma cocoette? I know you are a beloved woman of our people.” He held a hand out.

 

Ivy grinned at that little nickname and gave her hand over. “I’m sure I can find some time to dance with you, Gaspard.”

 

“Most wonderful,” He kissed the back of her knuckles, keeping eyes on hers and rose once again, pausing a moment to take her in before dropping her hand, nodding at Marcus and then leaving up the stairs.

 

“Ma cocoette.” Marcus snorted. “Of all the things to call a woman he wants to charm.”

 

“Agreed.” Cassandra made her classic scoff sound, protective, and went to the steps where the Inquisitor was coming forth, about to cross arms, only to drop them at the murderous looks Josephine was giving her for daring to look unreachable.

 

“Oh hush, siblings dearest. It’s cute. Here comes my girl.”

 

“N’aww my little niece is so cute in her red outfit.” Marcus smiled and it turned into a grin when Dorian gave a little huffing sound. “Don’t worry amatus, I still think you are the cutest.”

 

“With his _adorably fashionable little moustache,_ ” Ivy teased, tonguing a canine at Solas in camaraderie, who sucked in a breath at the sight. She instantly stopped and turned to Dorian, scolding herself internally at being so carefree with him despite missing him so much. She’d said to stop, damnit. Breaking down her own mental demand so soon in his presence was _ridiculous_ of her.

 

_But it had been so long, and distance and the heart and all that._

 

“You and that caller! This is the most absurd crier I have ever heard!”

 

The man now in make-up shrugged a little. “Personally, I think it’s great. Livens a party up.”

 

The Tevinter soon changed his tune with an, “Absurd but darling, _granted._ ” He sighed in a put-upon manner.

 

“Quite true.” Marcus rolled his eyes at Ivy, amused, making her giggle.

 

Her blue eyes travelled over the contrite Dorian to Solas to give a grin before looking at Marcus quickly, again scolding herself. “Thought you asked how old I was?” Ivy said wryly as she watched her Inquisitor get closer, smirking at some of the lines the caller was saying. “Wow this caller is gunning for it, _yes._ I’m loving these lines. Does he know Phillipe?” She hugged his arm.

 

“Don’t worry,” Marcus soothed her, kissing her mask fondly, free with his sibling affection. “I’m right up there with you on immaturity levels. Also, the hat thing?”

 

“Solas with the nice hat!” Ivy and Dorian said in unison, making Solas cross his arms with a sigh of impatience and Marcus snicker.

 

“It’s so unusual that it was the only thing he could think of,” Dorian chuckled. Then he repeated to himself, “ _Nice hat._ Maker.”

 

“Messere nice hat,” Ivy mused. “That’s going to stick now, messere Solas. Be warned.”

 

“I am warned, ma cocoette.”

 

“Oooh, two men calling you that,” Her brother grinned at her as the Inquisitor came up.  “ _Nice Grand Princess Dragon Hat_ party - go!”

 

“Oh my goddesses, _stop_. Ugh. Where’s Cassandra so I can get her to do an appropriate sound of disgust in my name?” Ivy muttered and looked around for the woman, who was grimacing next to Varric. “Ah, there. Hey Cassandra, I think you should have worn a frilly dress with bows and a bonnet!”

 

“ _Ugh!_ ”

 

Solas lifted his lips up.

 

Ivy turned to a laughing Marcus. “There. That is how I feel with you right now. I’m glad you understand. Lana! Air kiss me.” She demanded. “My tailor would have a fit if I mess up his work by too many hugs.”

 

Marcus shook his head. “He already did for us wanting to wear the sashes. _Doesn’t flow._ ”

 

Dorian added in, “It’s true, however. You should have gone for a wrist sash like Ivy.”

 

“I didn’t know it was an option at the time, okay?!”

 

Lana laughed and did so, right cheek first and kissing on both cheeks before Ivy held her hands out and Lana grabbed both of them, squeezing hands. “Ivy! We missed you greatly.”

 

“I’d miss me too, to be honest,” Marcus poked her and she grinned at him before tugging Lana forth and presenting her to the Empress. “Empress Celene, The Inquisitor.”

 

“Welcome to the Winter Palace. I heard you have a son? It is most wonderful that the Inquisition has an heir to take over when you hand the reigns over.” Celene smiled warmly, taking in every nuance of emotion going over Lana’s face. “I do hope you enjoy the Ball. Your presence here is like the shade of a tree beneath the pounding rays of sunshine over Halamshiral. We have heard many of your tales; over the few months Lady Ivy and Lord Marcus have met with myself and cousin Gaspard, we have spent many a long night talking of them.”

 

To her side, a woman shifted a little, catching Solas’ eye.

 

In turn that made Ivy look, noting Florianne, but looked back at the elf and noticed him then staring at her, eyes hot and intense. The sudden moment was powerful and her body stilled and then relaxed in an instance and she felt herself _ache_ for him, pulsing low in her core and slicking her up embarrassingly quickly. She was sure she saw his nose flair so she looked away as Florianne was introduced and welcomed the Inquisition, feeling far too clothed. Her eyes caught the sight of his purposefully spreading his fingers along his thigh so he didn’t clench his fist.

 

Or touch her, like she wanted to paw off his clothing and take him on a table in the library.

 

Want just echoed throughout her body, flooding her.

 

She slowly sucked in a breath, a growling sound echoing near silently in her throat, but he caught it and twitched, the tension between them insanely high.

 

“We look forward to watching you dance. Lady Ivy, you will be joining us for the talks, yes?”

 

“If that is your wish, Empress, I shall be there.” Ivy curtseyed.

 

“Of course, my dear Hunter, you could be the next Empress Consort after all.” The Empress gracefully walked away.

 

Ivy smiled even though inside she was snarling at her expressing that with her companions now staring at her. Damnit. She didn’t want anyone to know and now she could already hear it throughout the crowd. _She could be the next Empress!_ Shit. Some of her plans flipped – the dwarven merchants would raise prices if they thought she had access to some wealth of the court for one. She could pretty much feel them thinking _yeeeees, more coins_ from here. Some of the lesser nobles she wanted to be seen coming to her would now stay backed away and she’d have to hand over some business to someone else to deal with. The higher up nobles will be trying for her attention even more so and she wouldn’t get a chance away.

 

Fuck.

 

Her eyes looked to her brother.

 

“Lana,” Marcus said smoothly. “My sister and I will go to get a drink, and likely will be besieged by people so we’ll likely see you much later on. Much later on. People, have fun.”

 

Ivy looked to Vivienne and nodded over her shoulder, inviting the woman over, and a delighted smirk lit the Enchanters lips. She came over straight away. “I am very glad you did not forget me, Champion.”

 

“Me, forget you? Darling, I am _aghast._ ”

 

Marcus led the way to the ballroom and stated, “Vivienne, anyone who forgets you is likely already dead.”

 

“And they had terror on their faces, I promise you that, and I wasn’t even there,” Ivy joined in. The two women smirked at each other in complete understanding. They did not need words for each other to know the deal was still on the table, Vivienne would work for Ivy, and Ivy would give her whatever she wanted. “If it happens,” Ivy murmured, knowing the mage would understand what she meant, “You will be back in your rightful place.”

 

“You are most kind, my dear.”

 

“I want your honesty and skill and loyalty, Vivienne. No simpering unless necessary.”

 

“I would never do such a thing to you. Now, put a smile on that face, and put some conceitedness there so they do not think to take advantage of you.” The viperous woman watched as she did so, trained well. “Such grace in your movements, your arts serve you well. Marcus, those lipsticks you sent me have to be the most excellent pigments I have seen in quite some time. I see you wear it, Ivy, how does it treat you?”

 

“The sheer longevity of it is amazing. I know how he does it, but then I still don’t know how he does it, you know?”

 

“Quite so.”

 

Marcus had previously went to university for Pharmaceuticals – when he’d found out that people here used… less than savoury ingredients – read; shit, bone dust, and more – he instantly had to slap the lip colour out of Ivy’s incredulous hands and begin making his own. With a dismissive wave of Ivy’s hand when he asked for money and she gave him a key to a treasury of hers, he’d instantly began creating his own, trying it on a few people in public and unashamedly using Ivy’s name as accreditation. He’d soon begun a small business.

 

He sent out models and lesser artistes looking for an in as Orlesian noble make-up specialists all over Orlais and Antiva to showcase the wares and then began quite the international demand for the products. He began creating multiples lines of all the make-up used, separated them into genders for even more profit and then decided to do seasonal lines and limited editions. Naturally to friends and family he gave over free samples, a type of free advertising. Demand also came in from Fereldan and Tevinter Imperium and Nevarra soon enough, and Marcus had lately been focusing his time on that, getting warehouses and staff and ingredients and hiring assassins to fight off other assassins from other make-up businesses or offended nobles not getting their wanted colour quick enough.

 

He’d also half taken over St. Clements from Ivy, the little ‘do everything – sort everything’ group that had bases all over Thedas, an idea taken from the Red Jenny’s. That was easier – he simply had to get reports from his people, whilst also hiring individual ‘problems’ to make sure he wasn’t being taken for a ride with people skimming profits off the top. He’d heard of Varric being cheated by his publishers. Thinking about it, he should send a note tonight – he was sure one of the publishers were here, actually trying to push books on other people. They had multiple people under their command already, constantly hiring people to make sure everything stayed in their command and wasn’t lost to others.

 

Frankly, he didn’t think they needed any position in court. They were already humungous by their own right. He’d instantly jumped on this St. Clements, however, helping his drowning in work sister out. He could only hope Dorian would also be part of it, possibly even Solas – the man looked like he knew how to command and take control, and they could use the elven male to help settle other elven people. Of course this whole thing between him and his sister would be a pain in the arse, but they did have trust in one another, despite the rockiness of their romantic byplay.

 

Perhaps this Briala woman would do well for them?

 

“If you ever wish for a colour, Vivienne, do tell. I’m always experimenting with colours,” Marcus smiled at her warmly and nodding to a noble he somewhat knew. It amused him when other nobles suddenly buddied up to him. “Also, Vivienne, if you would prefer, we can get you a dress and mask – Tailor is here in case of accidents?”

 

“Maker, _yes._ ”

 

Ivy laughed at that, free and cheerful. “You do not suit this. Please, go with him and be your usual glorious self. Though I do hope you do not mind the brighter dragon webbings Tailor brought.”

 

“Heavens no, darling, I do admire how bold you always are.”

 

“Madame De Fer?” He held his arm out and the woman graciously took his arm, nodding at Ivy and was swept away.

 

Ivy looked away the ballroom, only for a servant to come up to her with a platter of champagne flutes half gone. “Your Excellency? Do you wish for a drink?”

 

The elf was looked over quickly – big green eyes, Orlesian accent done well enough, blonde hair tied back in a cursory bun. “If you would please be the only one to handle my drinks tonight, I would like only fruit juices after this hidden to look like alcohol.”

 

“Of course, Your Excellency!”

 

“What is your name?”

 

“L-Lea.”

 

“Oh, cute! My hart is Lealos, your name also means brightness? Or… ah, to glimmer!”

 

“It is fully Leavune!” The elf woman replied and at Ivy leaning forward, she continued, “It means moon light- oh you know?” She’d seen Ivy mouth the words right back at her. “And you have a hart too! Oh, and – oh no, I should not be talking to a guest of such high standing! I-I-I apolo-” She squeaked when Ivy waved a hand.

 

“Not at all. I would not have continued if I did not want to hear it. In fact, if I rub the right part of my mask on this third horn, please come and rescue me from nobles by telling me I have my requested private business meeting ready for me?” Ivy said playfully. It would sure to get nobles talking and running over themselves to find out how to get a meeting with her.

 

Her eyes glimmered at being part of something, Orlesian through and through. “Yes, Your Excellency. Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Excellency?”

 

“Keep the servants’ rumours in my ear tonight by means of multiple servants handing me notes and spoken information?” The Inquisition _was_ here to stop a murder, whoever it may be.

 

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

 

“That is all, have a fun night, Leavune.” She grinned and the elf giggled, going on her way only to be approached by her first noble. He bowed and twiddled his wrists so very flamboyantly even she had to stare with others. Ivy nodded back to him and cocked her head at the little goatee and twiddly moustache she spied under the silver mask. Was he familiar to her?

 

“Your Excellency, a superb delight to see you tonight!”

 

 _‘And so it begins.’_  

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Winter ball was one chapter, once upon a time, but damn did that turn over 15k of words so Eh. Multiple breaks it is.
> 
> Hope you liked the tension ;) Now what will Solas do about Gaspard?


	29. Tales We've Woven

 

** Chapter Twenty Nine **

 

 

 

 _‘And so it begins.’_   Ivy nodded again, a light knowing smile on her face. “I could not pass up a chance to witness the magnificence that is The Winter Palace. It is outstandingly architected.”

 

“Indeed! Only those of high standing would ever get to see it.”

 

“A shame, such wonder… it would give motivation to people, greaten our society, more opportunities would spread, business would heighten, other countries would take notice of such a renaissance in outstanding members. If only our country was given a chance to show its own splendour.”

 

A bland smile was on his lips. “Is this so?”

 

“Of course, after all, it was how I attained my high standing as a dragon hunter. A chance to see a dragon exhibit was all it took and here I am, one of the great protectors of our beautiful Orlais, keeping safe those... such as _you_.” Ivy gave just as bland a smile, disregarding eyes looking down her nose his way and promptly turned her back on him and walked off. She had no time to play with those that would only seek to offend her to heighten their own standing and she smiled at the sound of fingers cracking a glass as others laughed behind hands and pointed at him. People spoke behind her and she soon found a woman come up to her, one with a swagger in her step and a swish in her rather revealing dress. This one she knew. “Lady Leroy-Durand.”

 

A woman who’d slept her way to the top, and knocked off husbands on the way and making a game of it, a real black widow of a woman. She was able to keep building her wealth because men saw her as someone to tame and claim, but that was all part of the fun to Lady Leroy-Durand, who’d embed herself into their life so well she took on their friends as her own, the family as hers. The more she sunk her nails in the more delight she had in ripping it away. When she cried over a death of a husband, it was only due to the loss of such a fun game.

 

The red-head came up to her and curtseyed and Ivy nodded back, lower than the previous idiot and for a second longer. “Your Excellency.”

 

“You are looking very ravishing tonight,” Ivy mentioned, noting the colours of the dress and putting it to house colours she knew of. The dress was tight, plumping in the right places and flaring in just as good other places and shorter to swirl around the knees but having a long shawl to cover her but for when she walked. It swished to bare leg all the way to the hip bone. Jewels covered her to the point of tacky, but it very much outlined her wealth and, along with her arrogant smile, it kept lesser wealthy males away. She held a fan that fluttered with little silken tassels sideways, letting it brushed the bared part of her upper body to draw eyes there. “I see you wear new make-up.”

 

“Oh yes! Your brother is a master at his work,” She exclaimed happily, always glad to be on this topic. “Is there to be a new range of reds coming out?”

 

“Actually, yes, where did you hear that?” That’d been something Marcus was currently working on. He had not let out that he was wanting that information to be let out, so she had to make sure this little loose end was tied up for him neatly.

 

“I have a few friends that mix with some of the workers,” She waved her fan dismissively. “A few drinks and they have loose lips.”

 

It may sound small, a nothing thing, but it gave away that she deferred to the Dragon Hunter by giving information away first.

 

As a kindness, she paid it back. “I thank you for this. You know, I do believe Lady Lefebvre begins a new range of patterns for this type of dress you wear at Grand Legrand,” Ivy mused. “I took tea with her just last week.”

 

Tea was honestly just code word for gossip in Val Royeaux.

 

In other words, information sharing.

 

“Lefebvre? I heard she has taken on a new lover.”

 

If Ivy was to bring her over to Lady Lefebvre with Lady Leroy-Durand in this man-pinching mood, it would be blamed on her as some sort of set up. Her mind whirled. “I do not believe it to be merely one.” Ivy replied with a little smile when the twinkle in the black widows eyes dimmed. Good. If it was just one, Lady Leroy-Durand would simply be pleased to take away the man and the dresses and as an always buying customer, it would be galling for Lady Lefebvre to have to say no to such a high spender, and just as galling to keep her mouth shut when this limpet of a man-stealer came in to shop _with_ him. And it would happen, Lady Leroy-Durand was a bitch like that. Implying that there was more than one had now given the slightly older Lady Lefebvre a social boost. “Shall we?”

 

It’d be socially terribly disastrous for Lady Leroy-Durand to say no and so the duo went over to the somewhat popular seamstress, to which Lady Lefebvre instantly dropped the current conversation she was having with as much grace as she could and curtseyed, only for others to follow her action when they saw why. “Your Excellency, Lady Leroy-Durand. It is a pleasure to see you here!”

 

“Of course it is,” Lady Leroy-Durand stated first, trying to take hold of the conversation. “Her Excellency here says you have taken a lover?”

 

“I told the Lady Leroy-Durand that is was not believed to simply be one; you are far too lovely for one mere lover to sate you. Lady Leroy-Durand is also interested in a potential new range of yours and as someone of taste, I brought you to each other. One hopes you can do business with each other. I do believe you each were looking for someone like the other.” She held up her hand and idly rubbed the third horn on the right. “It would be a shame for you not to meet and for business to not be done. Indeed there may be others who wish for each of yours services in here. I do hope I have been helpful to you both?” She very slightly emphasised the helpful part, and they were tripping all over themselves to agree.

 

“Your Excellency, the private business meeting you set up is ready for you at your leisure.”

 

“Excuse me Ladies, and have an excellent night. Do be sure to stay in contact.” Ivy smiled and walked away to the servant as the two women stared at each other, considering potential to get a one-up on the other and the worth of the other if they actually tried to align. “Thank you, glimmer. Please keep an eye out for me.”

 

Lord Fontaine was the next to come up to her as she walked away after twelve seconds alone. She finally sipped some of her champagne and approved of the taste. She’d have to order some of this for a safer night. “Your Excellency! How has your time been here? I see you’ve spoken with a few noteworthy people and it warms the heart to see you spend time with your associates in such a large platform as this. I know Empress Celene would love to speak with you.”

 

A bit puzzled, she hid it well. “I spend much time with people, Lord Fontaine. Are you simply missing my company?” She teased him. “It has been a while since we last ate together and a great many things have happened. My companions were very happy to have met you at the beginning of the Inquisitions’ days.”

 

“A group I approve of! This rifts nonsense needs to hurry up and go; it’s bad for business.”

 

She gave an earnest laugh at that, putting hand to mouth. “The whole of the world should also be thinking along the lines of yourself.” She saw Josephine from the corner of her eye look over at them and stare and when they connected eyes she widened them hopefully. Ivy held a hand out, palm up, in a graceful movement. “My Lord Fontaine, have you met the Ambassador of the Inquisition, Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City? Attended a school in our very own Val Royeaux. A most delightful woman, and attentive to all under her care. We are very grateful to have her work with the Inquisition.”

 

“Your Excellency is most kind to me.” Josephine curtseyed and then turned to the Lord after a warm nod from Ivy. “My Lord Fontaine! An honour!”

 

“Josephine here will be happy to keep you company. Please excuse me.” More bows and she left, only to be run into again with a man that seemed to want her to solve a problem for him, if his prompts were anything to go by. She recognised him as some lesser noble that tried to have documents stolen from one of her St. Clements groups in Val Chevin about some small business of loom-making, she believed. He suffered a loss from it in reputation as she’d gotten some public humiliation done by making him wear no mask from getting a St. Clement to break them all and making sure none sold to him, making him gauchely walk through the streets unmasked.

 

But the man he complained about was rather high standing in the cloth industry, catering to other high nobles, and for it, got away with more. One Vidal Aubert, cunning and a lover of chocolates from Seheron. She was sure she’d heard of beatings of the servants in public. He wasn’t the only one to dislike Aubert. She hummed. “Talk to Lady Dumas when she is with Monsieur Delchamps later on. Ask of the time she found the flowers before her door and cock your head to the right at Delchamps when you do and grin, and do keep it quiet.”

 

From that the man left, befuddled but vaguely optimistic.

 

It would remind them of her, and Aubert would soon be getting a trifecta of people in a business that would outclass him and make their rates less that his to put him out of business.

 

The next hour was of the exact same thing, and her glass was now warm and only a third emptied.

 

She needed a balcony for a little air, and would have, if not to pause at a certain scent entwining around her.

 

“Are you free, Your Excellency?”

 

The voice made her chest ache and her body pulse.

 

To the right of her was Solas, leaning against a podium with a statue on top of it, watching her in great interest and half hidden. “I have a moment, messere nice hat.” Then she coughed to hide her laughter by raising the back of her hand over her mouth, grinning at his sigh of giving in at the name sticking. “At least you are not simply a number, messere.”

 

“Ah yes, like guard number two thousand something-something-something.”

 

Her lips twitched. “Exactly so. I am glad to see most of the Inquisition here, however, I did not expect all of them that are here to _be_ here. Why is this, messere Solas?” She came closer and he watched her intently as she did so, standing up properly, adding meekness to his body to those watching.

 

“A Tevinter assassin.”

 

Ivy stared, waiting, eyebrow raising.

 

“For the Empress?”

 

She chuckled. “You’ll have to be more specific, messere Solas; I’ve already deterred six of them this past week.” She didn’t let the smile of amusement at his slight tightening of the brow bother her. She knew he’d had spies here looking for something, because they were neither hers, Celene's or Gaspard's, who'd taken most other people's out, liking The Game to be their own. Her own spies had informed her of Solas' being there as some of her own elf spies were spying on his. Lea was one of his, which is why she kept her close – Solas’s spy would not poison her. Regardless of his words before, his actions proved he kept her guarded though she was unsure what to think of this. “Two just today as it goes. Considered a slow day, actually, and that’s just the Tevinter’s.” She sighed, a little bored by it, actually. “Though…” She paused in thought, lips quirking up slightly when slight surprise lit his features at her response to assassins, “If they’re still here that means someone high up enough had to sneak them in. My, my, what is that man up to?” She thought immediately of Gaspard. “One last go at it for formalities’ sake? Perhaps… Ah Lea. Hm?” She took the note covertly from her serving help and swiftly read it.

 

The Inquisition was in the back rooms.

 

Lana was having some fun it seemed.

 

Lucky.

 

“Please get messere Solas some more wine? I know there’s an Antivan branch I found delectable a month back. Dupois’s newest vineyard from Northern Antiva.” She looked from the serving girl whose eyes flickered to her once lover and then looked herself to Solas quickly, stating, “Unusual a wine, but I’d like your opinion on it. Also, Lea, please gather a selection of halla statues and have them brought to the library for me.”

 

She curtseyed and went on her way to do as bid.

 

“Please could you burn it for me, messere nice hat?” She gave a little grin and watched as he did so with an elegant swish of his hand, staring at her the whole time while she looked at his hands, eyes lighting up and smile becoming happy and cheerful instead of measured and coy. “Oh…” Such mastery was highly uncommon and it made her communicate with him with a bit more brightness than she had showed anyone here. The use of his magic seemed to even make him smell headier and more addictive. How was she smelling him from this distance? What the heck was it? It wasn’t any traditional perfume from here or back home she knew of. Like the heat of him mixed with the mead she’d made and it made her mouth water.

 

“Your bodies’ words are enough to please me, ma’inansha’udh.”

 

Their eyes connected, blue misty storm intent on bright blue lightning.

 

The air heated, their bodies reacted, leaning towards each other.

 

“Why Fade expert, you seem to have improved even further! I had not thought it possible,” She added in fascinated honesty, voice lowering and a touch smoother, wanting to ask more, wanting to be by him, wanting to simply enjoy his company like she had done in those fanciful early times of their acquaintance.

 

Gods, she missed those days, all those long conversations and herb meads and warm fires and lots of laughter and lust.

 

A bit of her enthusiasm died at that.

 

“Ivy?” There was a huskiness to his voice.

 

She idly licked her lips, with his gaze following helplessly and his body clenching, murmuring to him, “Solas, do you…” She looked away, floating hands coming together absently and tightened on one another, not noticing him coil up protectively at her looking so unsure and tilt further forward to her. “Ever think of the time that we-”

 

“Milady?” Another elf came up to her with another note and a bottle and chalice for her perusal, one of her own planted people. “This is the one, Your Excellency?”

 

Ivy found herself once more at the timely interruption, blinking away the effect his magic and scent had on her and styling out the deep longing she momentarily had. “Indeed,” She said faintly, “Please make sure to have messere Solas’s glass filled and each time use a new bottle. If anyone brings along any type of drink for him after this one, inform me first. I will not have a favoured of House Montgomery poisoned from jealous nobles. That is all, thank you.”

 

“Yes, Milady.”

 

She felt eyes on her and again looked at the note. _No one had come out of the servant’s quarter all night?_ “Hm. Hopefully you’re on this.” She handed it over. “Now, I must say I have spoken too long to you, messere, and bid you adieu. Perhaps I shall talk to you again before you leave Halamshiral.”

 

He bowed to her.

 

She turned.

 

“Your Excellency.”

 

Her head turned back to look over her shoulder, only a step from him.

 

“I had not the chance to say this before, but you are _striking_ in such apparel. My eyes see nothing else when **you** are near me, even before tonight.”

 

Her chest felt like it had butterflies in there as she stared at him, stunned at his admiration before a saddened smile lit her face and she turned from him. “Thank you, Solas.”

 

“And to whatever you were about to say?”

 

Her head cocked.

 

“ _Yes._ I think of the moments I had with you every day and _that_ is no lie,” Solas promised lowly, watching her with soft eyes and wishing to touch her. “If it did not harm you, I would make so many more with you.”

 

“Àirén? You are _cruel_ on my heart. I maintain the ecology of, fight, and kill dragons for a living, messere Solas, and greatly enjoy it. Harm is something I have no fear of,” She breathed, eyes slightly glossy, and then left him watching after her intensely, going to the library for some breathing room, only to be stopped multiple times. When she arrived a good half an hour later, Varric was there with Blackwall, the pair of them being handed halla statues by Lea who bowed and left quickly. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Inquisition.”

 

They jumped.

 

“Hunter! Jeeze, warn a guy, would you?” Varric said, having just put a hand to his chest. “Maker that’s one terrifying helmet up close. Mind if I use that in a book?”

 

Ivy carefully took her helmet off for them and held it before her, beautifully applied make up making them stare for a moment, appreciative. “Only if you tell those that read it is my idea and it is the monopoly of sworn-in dragon hunters to wear such things and do spread it is only sworn-in dragon hunters please. Have you talked to your publisher yet? Marcus said he would send a note when he located her.”

 

“She’s _here?_ ” The dwarf said, sounding like he was getting ramped up over it. “Well then! Any idea _where_ , Ivy?”

 

“Last I saw from a window? In the gardens where Dorian is putting himself smack dab in the middle to make sure he’d be noticed as that _Vint with the Inquisition banging that dragon lady’s brother._ ” Ivy grinned at him. “He’s so shameless, I love it. I can see why you keep him around instead of kicking him over to me.”

 

“Apart from aesthetic?” Varric joked, remembering the time Cullen told him that in exasperation in the tavern.

 

“Yup. That’s the only reason we keep you males around; the hair. Ignore the fact you’re an internationally renowned writer or that Blackwall is a Grey Warden or Cullen is Commander – _pretty hair is pretty_.” She waggled her brows and making them chuckle and relax a little. “Are you alright? You’re both rather tense.”

 

“Forgive me,” Blackwall said uncomfortably, “But I think it a waste of time for us to be here when we should be out closing rifts.”

 

“Oh I quite agree,” Ivy said, checking over her helmet with critical eyes. “Lana is the only one who can, and I doubt she had much time for it the past few months but for the last few weeks or so, recuperating and getting back into the shape she is in now to handle such fights once more. Let Orlais deal with her own problem, yes? Of course then you would not have the loyalty of the court to use that you would do after securing the throne for one of the three and thus not the extra support of the people, and we _are_ a big country.”

 

“Say, Hunter, I think we should have a session where we bounce ideas off of each other for a new book of mine. Court intrigue of Orlais! It could be fun!”

 

“You mean me give you funny tales you can somehow wind together for your own profit?”

 

“Well, not in so many words… yeah. Yeah I do. I’ll buy you some drinks, well, maybe not with a certain couple people around – that brother of yours is pretty scary for a guy in a dress.”

 

Ivy snickered. “We both grew up learning martial arts since we were four or five years old. Dad always had us facing older people. Marcus knocked his first man unconscious at nine years old. I remember it fondly.” Ivy sighed happily, cuddling the dragon helmet to her bosom. “I was so proud of him.”

 

The two men looked at each other with raised brows.

 

“That’s quite a childhood, for your father to do that to his son,” Blackwall responded.

 

“We had a blast, dad was a load of fun. I miss him the most. So?” She asked with a chirp to her tone. “How about you go deal with your publisher, Varric? I shall hide the halla statuettes in my sleeves.” Ivy placed the barely touched glass flute down.

 

“Thanks, hunter. Can’t wait to see you at Skyhold again. We’ll have drinks for sure!” Varric called over his shoulder as he quickly left, not wanting a chance to pass up on his publisher he’d not seen for quite some time, writing only in letters.

 

Blackwall looked over at her. “You sure you won’t be missed?”

 

“Nah, I’ll definitely be missed, but I’ve been dealing with us Orlesians and our problems for well over an hour now and I want some other entertainment.” A cleared throat and Ivy turned, presented with yet another note from one pf her own. “It appears my work on keeping the nobles from bloodshed they seem to so desperately want is continuing.” She read it quickly. _Oh, so Briala has met the Inquisitor? And is returning to the Ballroom? Florianne keeps an eye on me and my notes? And…_ “If you could tell my brother to come dance with me, that would be lovely.”

 

“Yes, Milady!” The elf rushed off.

 

“Well, have fun. I will be enviously watching you do so. Unfortunately, I cannot do the halla thing for you now.” The martial artist sighed and put her mask back on. “Look good?”

 

“Certainly does.” His voice was low and then he coughed. “Hopefully we meet again at Skyhold, both as the Inquisition.”

 

“Possibly, possibly.” Ivy grinned, not expecting what would happen next.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of the Ball is the next chapter? What shall be done with Gaspard? And Celene and Briala? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ball Z! Or something like that. Wow I've not seen that show in aaaages.
> 
> Also, for all that like this, check out my other fic as I shamelessly plug myself. 'Heuristically Speaking' is a MgiT that is the Inquisitor, so if you like my writing, you might like this as well *shrugs* I'd like to think I'm an okay write so yeah. Give it a go for a slightly different Inquisitor more driven by science and dissociation. Ya might like it!


	30. Different Dances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot takes a different turn from here on out...

 

**Chapter Thirty**

 

 

It was minutes later Ivy entered the ballroom on the second bell’s chime. Marcus was by her side and he bowed. “A dance, my sister?”

 

“Of course brother dearest, let’s boogie.”

 

He snickered and quickly led her down. “Could you imagine if we brought eighties dancing to Orlais courts?”

 

Ivy lips twitched in a grin, knowing he’d had a couple for him to be this enthusiastic about dancing. “That _scandal_ of it! I like your mind, Marccie.” They began the courtly dance with grins on their faces, noting the people around them, including the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess a couple pairs away from them. “ _Marcus, you’ve heard they have been sorting problems out, yes? There is a rift in the Reverie Garden. Make sure to dance with Lana or one of the Inquisition next._ ”

 

“ _Do you think it time?_ ” He replied in Chinese, a wide grin on his face.

 

“ _You’re still willing to help, right? Then yes._ ”

 

“ _This is insane and I love it. I’ll get them ready as you dance with your cocoette man._ ”

 

“ _Which one?_ ” She joked.

 

Marcus laughed and they danced and talked for a bit longer, sharing gossip and fun little titbits of people.

 

The dance ended and Gaspard was quick to take advantage.

 

A bow and curtsey and all eyes were on Duke and the Hunter as they danced, staring at each other with little knowing smiles and not speaking. There was a bit of chemistry beginning to grow that others could see, dancing a little closer than strictly necessary, not looking away from each other.

 

“You want to tell me something,” Ivy surmised, used to him after several months of knowing him properly with him courting her, speaking up after the third dance in with him. She didn’t pay attention to those around her when the dance ended and people turned original partners to other partners.

 

“Regardless of how these talks go, I find I would like you by my side,” Gaspard admitted, making her blink. “There would be much to do as Emperor, I know my cousin works hard, even if the throne is rightfully mine, but I find… I find I would want to come back to you at the end of the day. Even if it is just a letter from you as you go chasing dragons about Orlais, keeping my country safe. Even if I do not become Emperor. At the end of the ball, I wish to announce my formal courting hand to you.”

 

“Formal?” Ivy blinked, thinking to the time only a couple days ago that Gaspard had gone down on her, noting her frustration with one of the nobles as she paced before a fireplace. He was _good_ with that tongue in a way he wasn’t with his fellow court members. She’d been surprised he could even use it that way so effectively. He’d seemed so pleased to help her relax, shaking his head and kissing the back of her hand when she offered it back by tugging at his belt, leaving after helping her with her clothing and settling her in a large chair by the fire and book in hand of dragons she’d yet to read. “I would have thought that the Empress telling me of your potential rise to the throne in five years after you having to marry me would have been good enough to constitute formal, considering these months we’ve been around each other.”

 

Gaspard gave a sheepish grin, something she hadn’t thought possible, making her laugh lightly. “It has been many, many years since I formally chose to court anyone with any seriousness. I tentatively agreed because I want the throne, but I will ask formally tonight, again, regardless of how the talks go.”

 

“Do I get a choice in whether you ask or not?”

 

“Even if you may wish to have no marriage to me, it won’t decide anything, and only shows my intent in my seriousness of you as my wife. I want to announce it before everyone, ma cocoette. I want Orlais to know what I think of you.”

 

The dance ended and she curtseyed to him as he bowed. “Then I will not stop you, as long as I still get to keep my choice if I do marry you or not without repercussions. I will be in the court to keep Orlais safe, regardless.”

 

“You do. I will make sure of it.”

 

They rose at the same time. “Good. I wish to think on this privately. Until later, Gaspard, and I will think on you fondly.”

 

He plucked her hand up and kissed the back of it, smiled at her hopefully, tentative but caring, and nodded, leaving her be.

 

She stilled, surprised.

 

Oh.

 

Huh.

 

What a… _kind_ smile.

 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be married to him?

 

She… began to wonder of the possibility of it instead of slightly dreading it.

 

There would be kindness in the relationship. Gaspard was already known to not be fond of The Game, protective of his country and doing what he could to keep his men honourable, but he was one man.

 

Privately never came, for there was another large whirlwind of people craving her attention, asking for her opinion, hoping for her consideration. There was notes to send. There was people to cover for and new business to make with foreign merchants. Two hours went by, notes were given over, people were danced with both on and off the ballroom floor in many manner of ways and suddenly…

 

“Her Imperial Majesty will now address the court!”

 

But she couldn’t concentrate in that moment, heat flaring in her chest and a certain scent of maleness overwhelming her.

 

“The notes you sent along to us helped greatly.”

 

She looked up at Solas, both of them to the left upper corridor of Empress standing and addressing her people and relatively hidden.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Their lips quirked as they looked at each other, unable to pull their gazes away. It didn’t matter that Ivy had now chosen to marry another man, or that Solas rejected her for his plans and to keep her safe – there was only emotion when around each other, heat and lust and adrenaline, and warmth and comfort and adoration.

 

They wanted each other.

 

Tenderly, he was about to grasp for her hand covertly, because even though she was the touching one with a face made for grinning, she always made him want to smile and reach for her.

 

Florianne was next to the Empress as she spoke damningly, “ _Isn’t that right, Gaspard?_ ”

 

That made her blink and look away, because Gaspard was planning a _coup_ not a- Her eyes widened and in a split second she had her helmet off and aimed it, chucking it as fast and hard as she could and then bursting into a run. It smacked against the Grand Duchess but didn’t really hurt her, only making her stumble from surprise long enough for Ivy to get close enough to kick her back and slamming her to the ground. But the woman simply rolled with it as she grimaced in pain and then cursed and made a run for it, the hunter fast on her tail and ripping off the two dragon fangs dangling from her bow as daggers.

 

Gaspard was right there with her. “We must apprehend her so Orlais will believe in the fact the throne stands for justice! Not just murder!”

 

“You’re right! This will just get them into-” She cut herself off, feeling an odd heat from her side and then snapped her head to Gaspard.

 

“Urk!” The man was shot in the chest and he slunk to the ground, bleeding copiously.

 

Ivy went to her knees instantly, dodging the next arrow and ducking behind the rail of the balcony, checking back on, “Gaspard!” She held a hand over the bleeding, trying to stop it, but it must have hit a main vein- yes, one was under his arms where a bunch of important blood vessels were located from what she could remember her father teaching her as a teen. She wasn’t a medic! Even after ten years here she’d always had a potion on her to stop any accident, always had one near her vicinity, but this was a _Ball_. She hadn’t been able to put one on her with her shitty _fucking_ costume-

 

“I-I-”

 

Lana and Solas and Cullen and several others in the Inquisition were behind them, and she could hear them slowing down. Ivy looked up and snarled out in bellowing command, “Don’t slow down! Apprehend Florianne in the gardens under this balcony!” They burst around her and chased the woman down as the Empress came outside with Guards. “Your Majesty, you should be inside- guards! Get a bloody healer! You, _GO!_ There’s plenty other guards here!” She pointed at one and barked the command out and he stumbled to do as bid, rushing off.

 

“Celene, I, I wish to for-formally announce my courting t-to I-Ivy-”

 

“Gaspard, notnow _areyoucrazy?!_ ” Ivy squeaked out in disbelief as she kept her hand staunched over the wound.                                         

 

“I understand, cousin, do not speak.”

 

“Focus on staying awake!” She snapped.

 

“Ivy…take my mask o-off and… K-Kiss me.” His voice was weaker, but his eyes were brightly on her, even if squinting in great pain.

 

It began to doom on her that her friend was not likely to survive. Right next to him, and she had nothing to stem the blood, or heal him with – only hands that could break bones and daggers that could kill beings. Dragon webbing was protective and she could easily pull up the extra webbing on the back to protect herself; Gaspard had only use some of the dragon webbing she’d wanted him in. Foolish man! Some event like this?!

 

Still, she undid the knot with one hand and pushed it off him, pleading, “Gaspard-”

 

“ _K-Kiss me._ ”

 

Ivy bent down and kissed him, feeling the rapid swirls of emotion disjoint her.

 

“Harder.” He muttered, barely there and so she did, with more passion and gripping his head with one hand while the other still pressed down to try and keep him living. He groaned and just about held her cheeks with his hands. He parted and put his forehead to hers, breathing in her exhale greedily. “You are so be-beautiful, Champ-pion. I’d have… wished… you loved me back, Ivy.” He touched her lips, glad to see her without her mask in this last moment. “Masks a-are so… ridiculous.”

 

“I’d have accepted tonight.” She kissed the tips of his fingers and he smiled, glad to have this moment as she leant over him, smelling so wonderful and looking so beautiful. “That smile you gave me after our dancing, Gaspard. My heart stilled for a moment.”

 

“G-G-Good. I’d have made you… as happy as I could with… everything I am… ma cocoette.”

 

Gaspard went still as he stared at her.

 

Gone.

 

Ivy stared for a quiet, pensive, disbelieving moment before she sluggishly sat back on her calves in a loud exhale, hands spread on thighs, feeling like she’d just gotten whiplash and was forced to run a marathon.

 

“Your Exce-… Ivy?” Celene asked delicately, touching her shoulder.

 

The Scot barely saw her as she looked up at the Empress, staring through her, eyes watery. “I could have… you know?”

 

“I know.” The Empress held a hand out.

 

Ivy looked at it before slowly reaching a hand out to take it and was tugged up.

 

“Bring my cousin to a back room. Do not let the guests see,” Celene commanded of her troops and they did so, the pair following the guards after Ivy picked up her dragon fangs. It was in the next room that they placed Gaspard’s body on the nearest table. “Leave us.” In a moment, it was just the two of them.

 

Silence reigned for a moment, the pair staring at the fallen man.

 

Celene exhaled.

 

“Gaspard and I wanted you on the throne with him, because you’d protect Orlais with your kindness and business wiles, Ivy, while he would command the armed forces. I could entrust him to the throne, because in those years you would both be learning under me. You’d pick up how I would want things for our beautiful country while also giving your own twist of seasoning to it and making sure Gaspard felt listened to. Gaspard is a man that would follow his heart rather than The Game, and he would lean on you more for it. I want to retire with no assassins coming after me every day. Perhaps just once a week,” She mused. “That would keep me entertained.”

 

Ivy snorted, staring at the dead body. “I’d have done so anyway, Celene, I’m the Champion. Not that I could even push one man out of the path of an arrow.”

 

“Florianne is well known as one of the best shots in all of Orlais and also Thedas and Gaspard is an excellent Chevalier in his own right. The siblings both had excellent tutors growing up, and have won many contests. Do not blame yourself, Ivy.” Celene placed a hand on her shoulder.

 

“I’m just irritated with myself. Years of protecting people from high dragons, and _one shot of the bow_ … Ugh.” She threw a hand up in disgust before putting it to hip as the other covered her face and she sighed out haggardly.

 

“I saw the shot coming before you did. It happens. We cannot always be the saviour. He asked for me to acknowledge the formal courting.”

 

“Should have held his breath, could have been the extra second it takes for him to stay alive,” Ivy put a hand to her head, still clutching her fang weapon. “What does that even matter now, Celene? Your plan is gone. I am just the Champion and quite happy for it.”

 

“Would you have said yes?”

 

Ivy thought instantly of her bloody elf man of hers painting in the Rotunda, but then of the rejection, of Gaspard-

 

And then of that _tentative smile_ …

 

“Yes,” Ivy nodded emphatically, “I’d have wanted a long engagement, let him be Emperor for a while as I go around keeping tabs on dragons and training up my Elite Hunters at the Inquisition so they could take over for me in and around Orlais after the Breach business is finished. But, eventually, I’d have wanted to settle down with a couple of kids. Gaspard would have been good for that. He… had a kind smile for me. That certain smile from a person, you know? I could see him with our kids.” She held her dragon fangs to her chest, smiling as she said, “I could see him tumbling with a couple little kids as they faked being Chevaliers in the palace grounds in my mind as they conquered him with him faking his death. Heh.”

 

“Then, I declare it formal.”

 

Ivy blinked. “Thank you?”

 

“You do not know? You play The Game well and yet…” Celene laughed to herself. She went to Gaspard’s body and unclipped the necklace he wore. “Here, this is yours now.”

 

Something to remember him by?

 

Ivy stared at it, unsure. “Again, thank you?”

 

Celene’s hands fell a little, still smiling. “What do you know of formal courting?”

 

“Nothing. I was honestly just going to find the right man, ask him to marry me and be done with it. Gaspard and his position made it a little different, but we’d been around each other so much that I thought we were already formally courting and that because of the deal for him to be on the throne we’d be married sooner than later. He said he was going to announce it later…” She looked at the body. “Months and not once did he say anything.”

 

“He was with you most of the time?” Celene smiled at her nod, delighted at her cousin having actually found tenderness after twenty or so years without being married. “He was actually trying to play by my rules? That makes me happy. He showed patience and chivalry and honour. He’d have made a fine Emperor for Orlais. You will make a fine Empress for Orlais.”

 

It clicked. “You still wish-”

 

The woman held out the necklace. “Yes. You dare more. You will pull the Empire through this reckoning in a way I wish I could.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I am suddenly reminded of a time in a dragon museum,” Celene teased.

 

Ivy snorted and then snickered, waving her fingers at the woman. “Oh hush, you.” She bowed her head and the necklace was placed over her head and it rest lightly on her bosom, still warm.

 

“We will swear you in after the Inquisition closes the Breach for good. Your task as Heir will be to stay with them until then.” There was a knock on the door. “I shall let you have some privacy. I’ve been informed you have been keeping tabs better than Briala has all night. Is there anything I should know about her?”

 

“Of Briala? She implanted her own spies against you.” Ivy handed over some select notes from elf servants from her sleeves – some of her own spies. “I believe my Inquisitor will have more information for you. Trust in her.”

 

“Thank you, Ivy.” Celene gave a nod and went to the door.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“Oh!” Celene said loudly, instantly making Ivy defensively position her dragon teeth out, only for Lealos to bleet from the doors. “Your hart! I had only seen him from a distance, I had not realised… How grand! He is magnificent!” Lealos keened at that, nuzzling Celene in thanks and angled his horns so he could get in, trotting over to Ivy and nuzzling her. The Empress watched as the woman reached up to hug him around the neck on her tip-toes. With a smile she left.

 

“My magnificent boy.” Ivy kissed his shoulder, the closest thing to her head. “How did you know I needed you?”                                                                                                                                             

 

He rumbled something, licking her hands clean of blood.

 

‘ _So._ ’ Ivy thought to herself, turning to look at Gaspard’s body. ‘ _The night didn’t finish as I expected it to. Best laid plans of mice and men, I suppose._ ’

 

The night was supposed to end in Celene as Empress, Briala gone – in which she was sure was going to happen anyway – Gaspard still as heir, but with evidence leading against Celene and more support for Gaspard to get him as Emperor quicker so he could buff the army, just in case the thousand-year-old Tevinter somehow gained advantage. She loved what Celene had done and planned for the future of Orlais, being more cultural and intellectual, but it wasn’t suited for the now, and what the now had in store for them. And if Gaspard still wanted her, she’d influence more culture and science rather than religion and militaristic avenues.

 

Honestly, she just wanted Briala out of the picture and to have her own spymaster put in place, one of the St. Clements - probably Saint Shoreditch. Then she’d bargain with Leliana to come over and work for her, allowing the Inquisition to obtain limited access while also having several other sects of the St Clements to make sure she didn’t step out of line and take too much of her beloved Orlais while using Leliana’s skills. She could help Orlais from behind all their backs. Gaspard would have been pushed to other women after giving Ivy the child she wanted because Ivy had not planned on liking the male much but for what he could give her.

 

That _was_ how she was planning it.

 

Until that _smile_.

 

Fuck.

 

She really could have-

 

Well.

 

That wasn’t happening any more.

 

Now she’d be in the spotlight, something she had been wanting to stay out of.

 

She stared at the body, time effortlessly flying past as she planned and plotted and remembered him.

 

Lealos looked over to the door as it quietly opened and in came Lana.

 

The elf looked at the woman in worry. “Ivy?”

 

“Hm?” The Hunter didn’t look away.

 

“Do you… Do you need a hug?”

 

The martial artist shook her head, still feeling that frustrating load of emotion in her from this. She didn’t want to let go of it yet. Regardless of plans, Gaspard had become a good friend. She owed him some mourning. “No. Lealos is perfect for cuddling with. What’s the word out there?”

 

Lana wanted to help her somehow, for all the help she’d given her. “Celene is about to address the court, I came here to get you.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Mamae?”

 

Ivy looked up at that, surprised to hear it.

 

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. You lost a friend and from what we saw… possibly a fiancé.”

 

“We were unofficially courting until tonight it was made formal. So yes, a fiancé.” Ivy sighed and then raised her chin. “Let’s go, da’len.” She gave a little smile to the elf who grinned and held the dragon helmet out and she took it. They slowly walked out, with the hart behind them, making their way to Celene speaking to her court.

 

“It is the honour of Orlais to stand with Andraste’s Herald to end this crisis! We stand with the Inquisition, and our very own Champion will be back with them, fighting to protect our Orlais against the tyranny Corypheus wishes to bring against us all!!” The crowd gave a cheer. “In light of events, in which many of you have guessed, departed cousin Gaspard announced his intent to court our Champion!” This sent the crowd cheering again, “And so, I have named our Champion my Heir! Ivy Montgomery will be sworn in as soon as the Breach is closed – this is my task to her. Do you wish to speak to the court, Ivy?” She turned to her.

 

Ivy put on the helmet carefully, leading the hart to stand beside her next to the Empress. She gave a grin, “Our beloved Orlais will have a new renaissance, a prosperous boom of business, and opportunities for those with the gall to grab life by the dragon horns by the time I’m done with her!”

 

Laughter, and cheering, and Ivy stepped back, cuddling into her hart.

 

“That will be a joy to see in the future but for now my friends, let us enjoy tonight!” A final cheer, and the band played livelier dancing music. “Ivy, let me have your first dance as Heir?”

 

“As my Empress would desire.”

 

“How about as your friend, Celene?”

 

“Even better.” Ivy grinned a little at her, earnest. “And after, I shall go and see if I can weed out more Venatori agents still hiding in the area.”

 

“You are a credit to the Court, and to Orlais.”

 

Ivy was guided down onto the dance floor, but it took until she’d finished dancing with Lana, Vivienne, Cullen, most of the Inquisition here and several other high ranking nobles and high members of the Chevaliers until she was able to escape with Lealos. Some agents lingered and they were dispatched by a snarling Ivy and ferocious Lealos, fangs and horns at work and taking out their anger.

 

Silence.

 

Her eyes looked around suspiciously, ears taking things in, something telling her someone was there as she walked into another clearing.

 

Lealos was fine though, one ear turned and flickering, but he seemed unbothered by anything so she mellowed.

 

There was a sudden overwhelming urge to cry and shout. Had she done the right thing?! Had her plans been too scheming and underhanded and she got her just deserts? Damnit, she’d wanted to be the one in control of spying and making sure things stayed safe, taking tea with Leliana and playing their own miniature version of The Game with Vivienne there to makes things both a challenge and easy in different things. Wanted to just get rid of the Breach, have a kid and raise them somewhere safe with Marcus and Dorian. If she’d had magic like her brother, she could somehow have saved Gaspard and she wouldn’t be messed up like this.

 

It felt like once she clung onto someone, it was ripped away from her.

 

Solas, Lana, Gaspard…

 

Her chances at having a home going, because home was people to her.

 

But… But she had Marcus and Dorian who were brotherly to her, and Cassandra who was the adoptive sister.

 

She could-

 

A slight noise had her hands tightening their hold on the fangs.

 

She could deal with it.

 

A certain addictive scent infused into the air, her chest pounded with warmth inside her and it was mere seconds before hands slinked up her body. One wrapped around her waist and the other trailed up over her decorative dress-bow to hold onto her shoulder and a face buried itself into her neck, heat encompassing her back. A gentle kiss lingered on her skin, and another was placed higher up on her neck. She shifted back, grinding slightly and holding onto his arms, daggers pressed up against his limbs. She expected him to want to press her against the tree and lustfully bring her pleasure which she’d fully take at that time, needing some release of emotion, but she forgot he was the thoughtful type, that instead he went down to his knees, pulling her with him to sit on his lap and keep her close.

 

“I remember you saying you are ill-suited to The Game. I see this is what you mean,” Solas murmured, settling into a cross legged position. He licked his lips as she slowly took the helmet off and let it fall to the ground, hair line slightly sweaty from the stuffiness of it and from killing agents to protect the Ball participants. “You tire easily of it, dear Ivy. Yet, you have played it _superbly_.”

 

“Not with enough finesse it seems.”

 

“You did not wish for the throne?”

 

“You do not wish to hear what I wanted, Messere Solas.”

 

“I can guess that you wanted the De Chalon general on your arm, in your bed, with the both of your children in your arms.” He watched her eyes finally flicker to his, exhausted and open to be read so easily. “Hmph. With eyes like yours, you need that mask on.” He tugged her closer, protective, by softly placing a slender piano-fingered hand over her eyes. He delighted in the way she instantly submitted to his care, making him feel powerful and weak all at once, knowing he would do so very much to keep it like this.

 

She snorted and accepted the comfort offered, enjoying the blocking from the world for this moment, needing it. One hand of hers held the wrist with the hand over her eyes, thumb lightly caressing his pulse point and wishing it was her lips doing that instead. “I want to protect Orlais, but I did not angle for heir. That is not how best to do so.”

 

He paused for a moment, taking in her words. She had not? Then what other position would she have gone for? Not wishing to be heir meant the only position was spymaster?

 

Spymaster, despite her not liking the position?

 

Yet why…?

 

He suddenly understood. “Ah, Briala. I see. Yes, she would only have wished to protect the elves and would have tipped the balance in the opposite direction. Then, I am glad you have succeeded in taking Briala down. The future of Orlais is brighter for it. Yet… ah a St. Clements you associate with would be in her place.” He marvelled at the plan, one he’d not known until now. It half frustrated and half admiringly bewildered him with how much she still was able to keep from him.

 

Close enough. He still hadn’t knowledge on her creating, owning and directing St. Clements then. “Yes.”

 

“Leliana has been keeping notes on you, at first for your protection, but then very quickly for the Inquisition’s protection. I do not know it all, but I do know she has grown very fond of you and your actions. You are a wonder to her.”

 

“Now I have to watch out for her too?!” Ivy exclaimed and then leant back over his thigh, fingers digging in hair and palms covering her eyes as she groaned. “No! I just wanted to grab what I could, help out my country, and get out mostly unscathed from this Game business! I want my dragons!”

 

Solas laughed at her disbelief. “Oh, _vhenan._ ” He cuddled her close, cheek on her hair. “You are doing so well! Come, sleep for a moment, recuperate your energies. Lealos and I shall watch over you.” The hart sat down next to them, his great body more than enough to keep them both warm. With a sigh at the hart’s pointed look, the elf gave her over and allowed the hart to nuzzle her jealously and put his own scent on her, snorting hard at the elf to go away and even shoving at him with his antlers. He chuckled when Ivy snickered, cuddling her baby. He brushed some hair from her face and she hummed at it.

 

“I should get another hart,” Ivy said thoughtfully as the steady breathing of Lealos lulled her to sleep, eyes closing. “Fur and warm and breathing, all around me. Hey… this feels like we’re good again.”

 

“I would greatly be relieved to have your presence happy by my own once again.”

 

“I… can’t stay mad.”

 

He lined the tip of her ear with a finger, wishing she was sensitive there so he could lustfully torment her. It still prompted a bit of a shudder from her, which made him smile wider. “You should learn to, for the sake of your country. All sorts of villains will take advantage.”

 

Idiot she was, she grabbed his hand and looked at him. “Hm. So I should still be mad at you?”

 

“Always,” He murmured, slightly teasing, slightly wry. “It will keep me on my toes.”

 

Her eyes narrowed and she let go. “You are an odd one, but I like you.” Lealos rumbled unhappily. “Don’t worry, Lealos, you’re my favourite boy still. Solas falls in place behind you _all_ the time.”

 

The mage laughed lowly at the smugness Lealos had when looking at him.

 

Ivy smiled and thought over her night, how she still had to think of what to do with the gaatlok her messengers had found - _perhaps give it over to Marcus to deal with and experiment on?_ -, and so much more business and links and blackmail to do; she huffed.

 

Too much.

 

She was so exhausted from this one night…

 

“I need to sleep, Solas.”

 

“I will always protect you. Sleep.”

 

Always, because he would make sure she would survive.

 

“Mm…” Her eye drifted closed.

 

Solas looked at the picture of her against her humungous hart wrapped around her, in the cool forest and dressed in dragon webbing and fangs carelessly by her, trustingly under his watch.

 

His magic pulsed brilliantly.

 

That’s it.

 

He was giving in. He’d tell her. He’d submit himself to her inevitable damnation to push him to ripping the Veil quicker than ever. The months without her were too much for him, not seeing her grin or hearing her laughter or smelling her scent. But he knew he couldn’t push his suit, not after all the rejecting he’d done. If she asked, then he would give her his heart and damn the consequences. He would treat her as she deserved to be treated in a relationship.

 

Only if she asked one more time.

 

After all, he’d directed the wind enough to take out the competition earlier.

 

He wasn’t one to let go so easily.

 

Solas leaned against the trunk, fiddling with the keystone to the Eluvian’s in his pocket as he looked over Ivy and kept watch.

 

At least something close to him was progressing, finally.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Tell me your thoughts!


	31. Those Old Songs Get Remembered (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR 500+ KUDOS! That's astonishing, people, and I'm super grateful for your support! Shoutout to all my regulars x
> 
> This is where the story begins to go off path, and all the little secrets start coming out...

 

 

 

**Chapter Thirty One**

 

  

“Marcus, drink some water damnit.” Ivy chucked her flask over to him, and he caught it. “You’re drunk.”

 

They’d stopped off for a break in journeying back to Skyhold and nearly there, but Varric had snuck some alcohol onto Marcus who’d given him a look but drunk it from sheer challenge and male pride, not expecting the powerful kick that dwarf alcohol would have on humans. “You know what Ivy likes when she’s drunk?”

 

The woman stiffened at her brothers’ words after a long lull in silent travelling. “ _No._ ”

 

“ _Romance songs!_ Ahahaha!”

 

Solas raised a brow from beside her on his hart, never expecting that.

 

“Fuck off Marcus,” She grumbled, glowering at him. “No one needs or wants to know that.”

 

“What?” Varric joined in instantly, loving stuff like this. “Really? Romance songs? _Ivy?_ The same one over there is who we’re talking about, right? The dragon hunter who I’m sure I heard cackle on the back of that dragon?”

 

“That was Hawke, I swear.”

 

The dwarf snickered, able to imagine it.

 

The mage nodded. “But they have to be good ones, and really _annoyingly catchy_.”

 

“No-”

 

“ _You’re just too good to be true-_ ”

 

“ _Marcus._ You know what these songs do to me! They stick in my head!” She hissed, making Varric smirk. “Shut up dwarf!”

 

“I didn’t say anything!”

 

“Your face did.”

 

“See?!” Sera cried, “I’m not the only one that can read you!”

 

“ _Can’t take my eyes off of you._ ”

 

“Would you-”

 

“ _You’d be like heaven to touch!_ ” Marcus laughed, horse underneath him huffing at the bad steering, making Dorian grab onto the reigns and glare at Varric, who was unapologetic. “ _I wanna hold you so much!_ ”

 

“Go away!” Ivy threw an apple at him she’d wanted to eat, which he also caught and shut up, munching happily. “You could have just asked for the bloody thing. I wanted a bit of that,” She mumbled unhappily.

 

“And not embarrass my darling Heir of Orlais sister in front of her good friends? What would that make me?”

 

“An idiot,” Ivy promptly remarked, sighing the words out, knowing she’d do the same but then the song was _in her head_ now.

 

As he knew it would be.

 

A minute later she was humming it.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

Ivy shut up, looking at Lealos adamantly.

 

Then Marcus began humming it too, with her unknowingly following suit.

 

She shut up again.

 

It was quiet for a good fifteen minutes.

 

Ivy was tapping out the beat on the hart. “ _Can’t take my eyes off of you…_ ” She sung to herself. “Ba da, ba da bada dadada… ba da ba da baaaaa.”

 

“ _I love you baby!_ ” Marcus suddenly sang with laughter in his tone. “ _And if it’s quite alright, I need you baby! To warm the lonely night, I love you baby, trust in me when I say!”_

 

“ _Oh pretty baby! Don’t bring me down I pray!_ ” Ivy sang, only to get taken over.

 

“ _Oh pretty baby, now I got you, stay! And let me love you baby! Let me love youuu!_ ” Lana joined in. “Hahaha! I haven’t heard that in so long!”

 

Ivy and Marcus gawped at her before beaming at her as others look curiously at her.

 

“I knew there was something about you that was familiar!” Ivy stated, the thought having been bugging her for months now.

 

“You’re one of us!” Marcus grinned at her. “No way! We have so much to talk and sing about! How about some Elvis?” He sideways glanced to his sister.

 

“Oh go away,” Ivy mumbled, knowing he was still taking the piss out of her even though most Earth people liked Elvis, while Lana perked up.

 

“Yeah!”

 

The Champion looked heavenward, only slightly embarrassed but _completely_ exasperated. “Cassandra, Varric wants to put flowers in your hair!”

 

“What?!”

 

“ _Ugh!_ ”

 

“That is what I’m feeling, Marcus! Both of them at once.”

 

Others laughed at that but Marcus simply went, “ _We’re caught in a trap-_ ”

 

“ _I can’t walk out!_ ” Lana continued, making Ivy groan and put a hand to her face.

 

“ _Because I love you too much baby-ay-ay-ay!_ ” Marcus winked at Dorian, who groaned at the cheesiness and rode away from him.

 

Lana laughed, “C’mon Ivy!”

 

“ _Why can’t you see! What you’re doing to me!_ ” The Scot sang, a grudging grin on her lips. “ _When you don’t believe a word I say?_ Okay, I’m done. I hate you now, the stupid song is in my head, go away. _”_

 

The duo went on singing, intriguing the others.

 

“These are… common songs?” Solas asked of her, riding up closer to her on his hart, smaller than her own by half but normal. It honestly made him wonder at the abnormal hart she rode. “You know them well?”

 

Friendship between them was far too easy. She fell right on back into it, despite all their arguments with the obvious chemical tension between them. “Unfortunately. They just got played a lot when drunk and bam, instant memories! I have a whole load of them shoved in my brain. I can’t believe I remember the lyrics after all this time. It has been a literal quarter of my life since I sung them and they’re fresh as ever. It’s not just me though, Marcus was always better at memorising lyrics. Watch – _Lord Almighty, I feel my temperature rising!_ ”

 

“ _Higher and higher, it’s burning through to my soul!_ ” Marcus carried on.

 

Lana was next, “ _Girl, girl, girl, girl, you’re gonna set me on fire! My brain is flaming, I don’t know which way to go!_ ”

 

“See? Even Lana’s pretty good at this. I was only ever good at first lines and choruses being recalled,” Ivy said to the elf as Marcus went on, beginning to teach a couple of the others, overhearing him promising to teach them more in the tavern. “Oh dear. Looks like I’ll be dragged to the tavern soon enough.” Her grin was wry though, despite her words. “You’re the devil in disguise! Oh yes you are!” It prompted another session of singing. “This is kind of fun. My own live performance.” She winked at Solas, grin affectionate at her muppets singing over there. “Perhaps I could do the same for you. Any well-known song requests of Thedas you want them to make a lousy attempt at?”

 

Varric snickered, drawing their attention.

 

“Hm?”

 

“I’m pretty sure he’d _sing_ for you if you prompted.”

 

Delight was in her tone. “My my! Solas, are you telling the biggest gossiper ever, our darling Varric, of some secrets between us?” Ivy gasped at the elf as they went down a hill, Skyhold completely in sight now. “How daring of you!”

 

“Perhaps I shall?”

 

Ivy looked at him, curious but saw his ear lift slightly and grinned. “If that’s what you want.”

 

“Are you serious?” Varric asked, looking between them, but both of them gave him amused glances. “Just _riling_ me up, hm?”

 

Ivy groaned at the pun, but Solas chuckled, legs accidentally smacking as they rode on.

 

Varric noticed neither of them apologized for it.

 

He raised an eyebrow. Well. Maybe there was something he wasn’t seeing? He sure hoped so. He’d known the elf had a crush on her this whole time, slowly blossoming into something lasting. Even now the guy was staring after her as a Chevalier came to her and informed her of his report, Orlesian flag flying behind her as she rode fast to go to the front of the procession and change some things up. Why hadn’t he said anything? Done anything? Varric disliked the fact he’d waited so long. But perhaps something had happened? Then… why’d the elf not say anything? None of them would have taken the piss seriously, just teased and had some fun.

 

The dwarf completely saw Solas as a man who would not let his lady out of his sights, thoughtful, skilled, clever. Excellent a partner for an Heir to the Empire Orlais. When that male liked something, he was completely on it; Fade, magic, history – he didn’t let up.

 

Why not this?

 

“Yeah, you should hurry up on that,” Varric commented, giving a look to the sharp eyed elf. “Before she gets forced into something else for the sake of _duty_ , you know, like _another marriage_.”

 

“Duty?”

 

“Oh, yeah. A dragon hunter like her, still chasing after her dreams and having a blast, suddenly to be tied down? No way. Just isn’t right plot wise.”

 

That made sense.

 

Suddenly, he understood her so much better.

 

Solas was quiet for a moment, thinking of the night of the Ball in the forest. _I just wanted to grab what I could, help out my country, and get out mostly unscathed from this Game business! I want my dragons!_ “If she asks, then I will, for I have rejected her too many times. Advise people to stay away, lest they would like to be made an ice statue of. I will not let her out of my grasp.”

 

Varric grinned at him finally moving for her though highly surprised he rejected the woman. “Will do, Chuckles. Might want to tell Vivienne.”

 

The woman asked, coming up as she knew the Heir would be with them once more as her sibling and adoptive daughter sang catchy songs she’d never heard before. “Might want to tell me what, darling?”

 

“If she desires it, I wish to court Ivy.”

 

“You?” Vivienne laughed lightly. “Now what would you bring her?”

 

Solas thought of those sensual nights, of those long conversations, of those smiles between them and of that wanting that lay between them at every moment. Then he thought of what he would take away - _everything._ “Everything and nothing.”

 

“Therefore, you’d bring to her nothing if that equals out.” She sniffed.

 

Yet, while Vivienne was derisive… “My nothing,” the end of the world as she knew it, “And my everything, it…” the unending love he would give her in the new world, the care and adoration he would give her, “Equals. You’re right.”

 

His heart and emotion for her rivalled his need to bring back his people.

 

_Should he tell her?_

 

Then he realised that she’d live long enough to witness it, and beyond, with her brother.

 

_She’d know anyway._

 

What a fool he’d been not to realise that sooner. This wasn’t a person who he could love, abandon and then let die.

 

_She would live and she would fight back and he would fall as he could not harm her or have harm brought upon her._

 

But… Let her damn him if she chose to reject him. He’d deserve it, and then he’d fully stop trying for her, staying far away for good for both their sakes. He’d been brash and cocky when young, but he’d always been rather foolish when it came to those he grew tender towards and that was one thing he did not think he’d ever grow out of.

 

He’d be her foolish elf if she’d have him.

 

Varric eyed the elf knowing something was up, ever the writer.

 

“Yes, darling. Of course I am.”

 

Vivienne was derisive, but Solas was suddenly more eager to have Ivy for his own, to know his own consequences with her.

 

“I shall wait for her to come to me and inform her I wish to keep her by my side.”

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

Solas smirked, turning to her, knowing the pair of them had their disparate views on circles and mages place in them, and now they would have one on his suitability for the Champion of Orlais. “I would have thought the Winter Palace would have re-sharpened the blade that is your tongue! Perhaps I thought wrong?”

 

“It was never dull, dear. But clearly that is the case of your mind; _dull._ You do not truly think our Champion would debase herself and lower her station to be with you?”

 

“Those of station have done so, Vivienne! Do you not recall an elven spymaster of your Empress’?”

 

“A mistake that was rectified. Try not to lose your head, apostate.” Vivienne rode on to meet with Ivy coming back, drawing her attention away.

 

Solas narrowed his eyes, knowing Vivienne would actively work against him and Ivy would capitulate.

 

But to who?

 

Himself or Vivienne?

 

Varric chuckled. “That’s what you get for taking your time. Being held in suspense.”

 

“Do you wish to be stabbed in the book again, Master Tethras?”

 

“No, I’ve had plenty enough book stabbings for one lifetime. Hey, did Ivy ever tell you of the time she murdered some books?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

 

Ivy grinned from the top of the tavern levels but then pushed away from the rail, full mug in hand.

 

Marcus was happy with Dorian by his side with his own grin and terrible ale and thus she was pleased.

 

She left and tugged the great bear pelt tighter around her as she exited the tavern and took in the instant chill against her skin. She’d missed Skyhold, yet something had been different with it however; it was… _slanted_ , both weaker and stronger in a way. She wasn’t quite too sure what to make of it. It felt completely fine to her, but it did seem to be more alert, as if having woken up. But that was insane, wasn’t it? Now she focused on it… each step, she could hear it. Quite like how herself and Marcus could hear magic singing when used now. This was more calming, like a far-off wind chime back in China when she’d meditate in the shaolin temple she lived in for years. There was a sense of sleepy protection. She’d love to have magic to tease it to full awakening.

 

“You hear it!” Cole said, enthused. “The magic. Singing, dancing, you want to play with it!”

 

“I can’t play. Marcus got the better end of the bargain in that hand out.”

 

“You are envious.”

 

“Greatly. He does such fun stuff with it!”

 

“You don’t have to be.” Cole poked her chest, just over her diaphragm. “You are one of _them_. Yes, it is small now, a flicker, just warmth when around him that slowly grows, but that is still magic, like the old ways of your ancient elves.”

 

“I’m not elven?”

 

“But you’re elvhen.”

 

Her eyebrows rose at the slightest difference of pronunciations. “And that… makes a difference?”

 

“Very! It’s giving versus taking. Making the song instead of just playing the same tune. You can do it. She could make others greater, like them, like _you!_ Don’t worry, you will know soon. Then you can game a different game than the Game!”

 

“Sounds fun.”

 

“You did a pun! A punpun! Sounds! Fun! Sounds fun!” He laughed joyously. “Solas would like that one. He likes the sounds you make but not the ones that make you need me most.”

 

“Yes, well, Solas is an odd tune to me right now. He doesn’t wish to harmonize with my own jazzy little number and then does and then doesn’t.”

 

“There’s two tunes he wishes to melodise with, the playful, chiming one of orchestral power he’d create with you and the old broken one that clanks on, angry, fragmented, but familiar and once a much-adored symphony. He wants to fix it.” Then Cole blinked. “Oh. I should not be saying this.” He focused on her. “You don’t want Marcus to say something he shouldn’t either. From your pasts. I can stop him, he hates bows in his hair, he can chase me!” The Spirit grinned at her hopefully and she nodded, mentally wishing him luck in being chased by a drunk Marcus, grinning back and snickering. He disappeared.

 

Ivy cocked her head.

 

A roar of laughter as Marcus swore loudly, the tavern doors banged open and he chased off after a laughing Cole.

 

She snorted into her hand as her brother stumbled and cursed and then chased off after Cole once more, who’d come over to help and be his compassionate self and yelped at the determination in her brothers movements.

 

However, with a frown on her face as her brain ticked, she went back to her rooms she’d taken over once more, swift and needing to write.

 

Something… In the back of her head was poking her.

 

What Cole had said, little things Solas had dropped, little images in her head. She immediately went to her library collection, grabbing the large collection of notes in Chinese she’d done so no one else could ever read them but Marcus. She’d first looked up magic many years ago, wanting to know all about it because, hell, magic didn’t exist on earth; of _course_ she wanted to know if she had it, or if it could be obtained somehow or there were items that could transport people.

 

Fuck, it was the reason she and Marcus had gotten here after all.

 

 

_“She’s gone okay?!”_

_“Marcus-”_

_“She’s gone, and I don’t know what to do about that!”_

_Ivy looked at her brother, looking utterly defeated on the curb of some dead-end housing block in Beijing. Noise encircled them, stalls selling their sizzling food and shouting out to passers-by as smells drew them to look over but completely made her stomach churn. His hands, once gripping tight to the reddish-brown strands of hair they both shared, ran over his face as he exhaled heavily, shakily. The pair of them were exhausted from this past five days of constantly searching for her, unable to sleep but for an hour or two._

_“We always keep looking. Come on, our bodies need energy.”_

_“I am not hungry.”_

_“Well I am,” She wasn’t, at all, “And if we’re to help her from whatever bullshit she has going on, then we have to sustain ourselves.”_

_“I cannot eat when our little sister is out there-!” He cut himself off when she narrowed her gaze and crossed her arms, not about to take this shit. He slumped back, feeling ill. “Fine. Get some fucking food.” He snarled, putting his hands back into his hair._

_The Scot did so, going over to the dapaidang, the night stalls, and getting some of those Chinese kebabs. He’d not eat much, probably only a few bites if that, so no point wasting money that could be used to travel around to other places to find their sister._

_Mina. It was a near on tradition now that when their dad didn’t think he could teach them anymore in the Training Hall they’d grown up within in Edinburgh, he sent them off to China for a couple years to learn new styles of martial arts. Marcus and Ivy just ended up staying and working at their temple for years in return for living and tuition and getting the newest of recruits into shape, leaving the Monks free to teach the actual styles instead, a happy arrangement for all. Mina, twenty-three, the thirdborn before the twins and triplets, had longed for the experience of living in another country Ivy and Marcus had, and came over, leaving behind the one she loved, Andy._

_The one they’d never met, but had always teased her over. ‘Andy’s gonna miss you!’ They’d mocked, but the woman had always huffed and berated them as they laughed over Skype._

_They would meet their jetlagged sibling at her hotel. That was the plan they’d concocted and agreed on, staying there a couple days for sightseeing for Mina before taking her to their temple. Then she’d sent a message saying she felt rested enough to look around the area and the siblings had grinned at each other on the bus, knowing her love to wander sleepily since she was a little kid. Marcus had sent a message out. Then there was nothing._

_For hours and hours and hours._

_The hotel had not let them into her room for security reasons at first, but when they kept coming back, more and more distraught, the manager stepped in. Mina had left her passport there for protection reason and when a frazzled Marcus and Ivy had taken out their own and the manager acceded to compare them, finally looking at them and giving them the nod, saying he’d be with them when they checked. There was little in the way of plans, but Marcus opened the little touristy Chinese phrase book and out dropped a list of places she wanted to see in the time she was here._

_Wangfujing was the first, and the closest to the hotel._

_So here they were, low on energy, high on stress and completely void of one sister._

_They’d rang their family near instantly of course, but no one could come for another few days or so. They’d woken up in their hotel room, and it was the next day when there was nothing until mid-afternoon that they’d first bugged the hotel secretary, starting to really worry when Mina had come in and left but didn’t come back again and no one had seen her leave with her things. The police had been called but nothing turned up and so began filing a missing report._

_Missing._

_Ivy silently paid with a murmured thanks and went back to her brother. “Eat.”_

_He took it silently._

_Neither of them tasted anything, both of their stomachs rolled, and they wanted to hurl it up again._

_Ivy adamantly took another bite as people passed by, looking curiously at their temple-wear; warm, forest-green meditation robes to signify their being shaolin practitioners and plain black Chinese slippers. She paid them no mind, exhausted blue eyes looking past to see down an alleyway they’d yet to go down. A couple stalls lined near the front, but nearer the back were actual store, thin, but lights were still on._

_“Let’s keep going.” Marcus had followed her gaze and gotten up, tiredness lining his posture. He stretched out his broad shoulders and led the way, handing her the other kebab stick. He watched as she quickly ate it, dumping the bamboo stick into a bin and chewed with a full mouth, cheeks puffing and nodded. Blue eyes gazed around the alleyway meticulously, thinking about whether or not Mina would go this way. He looked back at Ivy to ask her opinion and snorted, taking out a wet wipe, because he was fastidious about cleanliness. “On your left cheek.”_

_She grinned and took it, throwing both the now empty wipes packet and stained cloth away in another passing bin. “Thanks.”_

_“What do you think?”_

_Ivy looked around. “I think that she’d go for weird little bits and bobs store, half tacky touristy gimmicky stuff and… like that.” She nodded at one in particular and went in, smiling at the bells signify a customer coming in. Marcus went right on with business, politely but urgently talking with the little old lady at the till while Ivy decided to roam about the store, suddenly taking back her comment of ‘touristy, gimmicky stuff’ because wow, this place..._

_Sheer amounts of things littered the whole place. There were multiple shelves crammed full of masks of actually good quality rather than those stalls outside the tourist traps, made with good quality materials, paints and hair all on the right and somewhat overbearing from their pointedly terrifying stares. There were multitudes of fans of all colours and pictures on the left side of the store, all fully out, and Ivy could even see some with blades on the end of them, raising a brow. The ceiling was completely covered with open umbrellas more for blocking sunrays than water drops, pretty and tassels hanging around the circle of it._

_Chinese, Malaysian, Mongolian, Japanese and Thai?_

_Curious, that._

_She liked it._

_Two rows were in the middle of the store, room only enough to get two people uncomfortably back to back in, also filled with incredulously amounts of things, and barely any were replicates of one another. Little child’s dolls next to porcelain Buddha’s next to lucky cats next to little bell trinkets next to ribbons for good luck and protection next to everything else she could imagine was South East Asian inspired. There was incense in the air, something smoky and floral, and there was the playing of some erhu instrumental music, calm and tranquil._

_She mentally apologised for her poor thinking, impressed by all of this. Behind the woman at the till Marcus nodded at sorrowfully was more amounts of products, but nothing unlike that of the two rows. Ivy quietly sighed to herself, ducking down to her haunches and running hands over face. She felt her eyes burn with tears and her throat choke with sobs but held them back because goddamnit no; she’d not cried this whole damn time! Well, held them back until she couldn’t, silent tears tracing down and she shook, hating that she hoped Mina wasn’t dead now._

_An arm circled her shoulder and tugged her to a warm body and she looked up at an equally red-eyed brother, distraught at the sight of her finally giving in._

_Ivy gave a wobbly smile, trying to reassure but then slowly shook her head with a sigh at the futile attempt. “We’ll find her, Marcus. We_ have _to.”_

_“We will.” His eyes looked in front of him. A lacquer box, black with gold embellishments, caught his eye. It was next to colourful charms and the understated charm of it drew his eyes. He wondered if it was a jewellery box and opened it up gently, smiling at the smooth glide of the hinges. There were two handsome baoding balls, pretty and reflective in a golden-green. “Stress balls.”_

_Ivy huffed a wet laugh out before a little grin half grin came out and she remarked wryly, “Yes, fate, we know.”_

_Marcus chuckled lowly in agreement. He picked up one with a stylised flame ingrained into it, enjoying the chime that came from moving it while Ivy grabbed the other one with a spear on it, eyeing the sleek lined pattern on it. “Mina would like these.”_

_“When we see her we’ll give them to her.”_

_“Swear it?”_

_That we’ll find her?_

_“Of course.”_

_She pressed it to her mouth, unheeding of germs, and he copied, and that seemed to be all it took for their world to zero out, for their minds to blank, and still._

 

It’s why they’d had marks in their mouths.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder how many of you picked up Lana's actual beginnings? Hopefully all! 
> 
> More foreshadowing will begun to be told in the next chapter as Ivy wonders about some old magical artefacts... certain spherical ones, and why Corypheus has one just like it. And more about Solas' and his motives. Stay tuned ;)
> 
> (will update Heuristically Speaking today as well)


	32. Those Old Songs Get Remembered (Part II)

 

 

 

** Chapter Thirty-Two **

 

 

Ivy shook her head at the vivid memory and went over to her desk, placed down the mug of beer and got parchment and ink out, beginning to write her thoughts in Chinese.

 

So yes, she’d been intrigued by magic. Had hoped to find a way home, but that seemed impossible. There was nothing out there about hopping to other worlds, barely even any fiction pieces on that sort of thing. It just wasn’t something people thought about doing, apparently. She supposed, with the Fade as it is being like another world, no one wanted to risk it. But magic written in books, even from those all over Orlais and Nevarra and Antiva, did not have anything about _acquiring_ magic in the first place, only getting _more_ via blood magic for a limited time or wrote about hack tricks that didn’t work.

 

She’d not touched Tevinter stuff but for one or two books that had nothing useful and it was exceedingly hard to find a translator for ancient Tevene that would help an outsider.

 

So she didn’t bother, for years.

 

Not until Marcus came back with all his Tevinter Imperium lifestyle. In the Western Approach she had Zevran (when he’d been around but now she only got letters from him) get her books on rare translated Tevinter tomes of anything and everything magic. Then came some books on objects but she’d put only a bit of belief into those object ones. Magic just plain didn’t seem to boost or take away – _the only real exception to that seemed to be, again, blood magic, which was exceedingly dangerous, or Tranquility which was just plain horrifying_ – it more was a use thing. Like the runes giving effects to items. But that was items and not people. Well, in her mind it had been.

 

Then Ivy had seen Lana’s little ball thing and it actually did boost her protection of fire.

 

She hadn’t known what to think of that.

 

Because maybe, just maybe, that meant that other objects she hadn’t believed in from books worked.

 

That she _could_ go home if she powered it and focused on getting through.

 

Ivy slapped her head suddenly.

 

“What about that stamp I’d used to seal contracts? Ah you fucking _idiot_ , Ivy. Items _can_ be used by non-magicals in this day and age to affect people, even though everyone says you can’t.”

 

Shit.

 

She scribbled it down, putting all thoughts to paper. She should’ve found out more about other items, particularly the ball ones, but no one had ever known what bloody stress balls _were_ , or what she was even _talking_ about when she described them so she’d given up on that after years of being shrugged at. Then life happened, and she’d slowly given up on it because she needed to live, not just exist for the sheer purpose of only getting home again. She couldn’t do that to herself, needed something to cling onto in the here and now.

 

Given up, until Marcus came back.

 

So her Tevinter Imperium understanding was in full swing since the weeks out in the Western Approach and during her time with Marcus and Gaspard in Val Royeaux when she worked from home, ever enhancing her library with things about all Tevinter life. She’d seen an old Tevinter book with an item called Somnoborium that had _something_ to do with the Fade. Pretty much the only item she knew that did, unless you got into the ancient Elvhen artefacts Solas researched.

 

And now with Cole calling her it…

 

She ran a hand over her face as she thought on a different ball.

 

Or perhaps the same?

 

Her hands flicked through pages of Chinese notes to get to the Corypheus section she had a little of.

 

“Hm, yes.”

 

A ball was the something Corypheus had – but perhaps it was not just some magic holding item so he could access more magic. Maybe it was a Somnoborium? Tales on elves were rare, and none of the Dalish ones she knew were anything to do with items, other than mirrors, like the one they’d brought back, the Eluvian of Morrigan’s.

 

But then hadn’t Solas said Somnoborium was an Elven artefact? Didn’t the elf and the vint sometimes have little talks that had Dorian penitent under Solas’s ire at the mage for believing the diminishing and final days of Elvhenan was Tevinter’s fault alone? He’d always been defensive of Arlathan for someone with no real attachment to it considering it was thousands of years ago-

 

_But Corypheus was a Tevinter mage of a thousand years ago._

 

Wait.

 

Her eyes narrowed.

 

Where was her head going with this?

 

Why was it going this way?

 

She’d wanted to think about how to get back home.

 

‘ _Okay, okay. Think about this now you’re on some path to something. Keep writing._ ’

 

_Solas was reverent and defensive and touchy about Elvhen stuff, Fade stuff, always going to the past in his head and his dreams. There were times he said things as if in memory rather than just relaying a memory like a story. He knew about ancient artefacts and he knew old magic’s; knew much of the Breach._

 

Blue eyes closed and she breathed out heavily as something clicked in her mind.

 

Too much.

 

He might not have had a hand there and then, but there was every iota of her that was willing to bet on the fact he was the one who wanted it open and manoeuvred Corypheus to it somehow. Hell, she’d been suspicious of him of that since _the moment_ she’d met him and he told her he was a Fade expert in which she’d never met one before and then that Breach happened!

 

Who wouldn’t be?!

 

What was that adage, criminals coming back to the scene of the crime? Probably not always true, but she’d heard it was when they had a real connection to the crime and hell, Solas had the biggest one she’d seen in a criminal.

 

Yes. _Solas opened the Breach or planned it._ That was poignant in her mind. He did it. She scrapped the Why for now. She’d not be able to get to that yet, hadn’t enough information. But hadn’t she just thought that he could potentially be super old? She focused, not knowing the little flame in her was flickering brighter. But how the hell would he have –

 

**_We are of those that live many years._ **

 

Her mind screeched to a halt as her eyes widely stared at the characters in front of her before scribbling madly; ‘ _The ancient Elvhen didn’t die from simply nothing – but suddenly had a quickening – why? – He was ancient elvhen and she was suddenly one too – why?! – Marcus was one if he too heard the songs of music – Why?! -_

 

**_I just do not think you could ever forgive me._ **

****

**_I would give you my world, if you would have it. But that means so much more than what you realise. You would lose everything. Everything but your brother and I._ **

_He wants to fix the old song._

_Old song = Old Magic if Cole was to be believed, if my own experiences were to be believed. If magic singing to me-_

_Magic was from the Fade?!_

_– He-He-He wanted to bring about the Fade into the Waking world – WHY?!_

She dropped the quill after she wrote it down, shaking in disbelief.

 

Where did that memory come from?

 

She snapped her quill up again as-

 

**_It is for your protection I do this, but I want for you so very much._ **

****

**_Is it really so bad?_ **

****

**_It is worse._ **

 

-came to mind.

 

…It was when she’d been drunk that one time when Marcus arrived. She wanted to think on that night, but this was more important. Far more important.

_Solas did intend for the Breach to open. But how would that bring about his world – **I would give you my world** -, whatever it truly was? Was he… trying to wield the Fade? What would happen if the Fade came to Thedas? He made the Breach to break the Veil, bring about his world? Right? Yes, from what the information she had here was telling her. Was he of the old Elves? Those that were apparently immortal at one point? Were they there and he was trying to get back to them and his world? Like she would her own world?_

 

Was _she_ and _Marcus_ truly now Elvhen?

 

They didn’t age, both had privately talked of this.

 

Her mind went blank, because that meant the loss of her mortality.

 

She… didn’t know.

 

But yes, everything was telling her she was.

 

_So, they were elvhen, he was super old, trying to bring about the union (re-union?) of the two planes of this worlds existence._

 

Nothing else was springing to her mind right now.

 

Maybe… go back a step? The Breach. Solas was the opener of the Breach.

 

_And?_

 

She stared at the parchment, trying to figure it out for a good hour, tapping nib impatiently against the desk. Nothing. She sighed out, knowing that nope, her brain had stopped its magnificent little sashay into intellect and was shambling away awkwardly now. So, the elf was ancient, so were they Montgomery siblings and had some reason for opening the Breach to do with his world. Arlathan. She looked at the stein of now flat beer dismissively and then peered outside of the window. Perhaps there was a story that would tell of the elves and magic that could help? She wrote that down as the sun came into her room. It had been early hours of the morning when she left, but now the sun was peeking up, so it must have been about five am.

 

She would just watch over the troops today, feeling drained from this.

 

But after a bath.

 

Then she stared back at the ink and raised her quill once more.

 

_Regardless of what he does, I must continue keeping people safe from dragons and all manners of beasties alike. Now is the time to figure him out, see if our plans could ever align, ask Cole to never say anything in my or Marcus’s or Vivienne’s head, and try to crack our own way into Solas’s plans. See if they could line up with Marcus and I going back home because Mina is lost to us. Or perhaps go with Solas if we truly are the same kind as he his._

_Keep Orlais, and Thedas, safe. I just… I wish I could hear dads voice once more._

 

She waited to clean up her drying notes.

 

Her door knocked. “Ivy? I saw your candles were still lit?”

 

Or perhaps not after a bath.

 

Ivy rose, dropping the pelt to her chair and going over to the door. She opened it, spying an Inquisitor looking at her with something clearly on her mind. “Lana? What’s up? I was just about to have a bath if you wanted to join me in the communal area?”

 

“In a bit? We’ve not yet talked about the fact we’re… both from Earth, so I wanted to ask if we could later as I’ve only been here since getting the mark but… but right now? I think there’s something you should see with me. And Morrigan.”

 

Morrigan, eh? Ivy raised a brow at that. She looked down at her clothes, simple breeches and a tunic and boots. “Let me change.” She quickly put on her In Death, Sacrifice armour, and her daggers once again were on her body. A moments’ hesitation between mask and helmet, and she grabbed her Orlesian dragon bone mask. As normal she grabbed her bag and put it on, wondering if she should put away her notes, but then that’d look far too suspicious in front of Lana. Despite both being from Earth, Ivy was still The Champion of Orlais, and Lana was the Inquisitor with a very good spymaster. Granted, one that didn’t know Chinese and never would, but actions could speak louder than words and all that rot. “Lead on.”

 

“The armor?”

 

“I’ll be training the troops after whatever we’re doing and it’s easier than coming back to my rooms all the way back here. I figure I’ll just bathe after that at the end of the day, considering I’ll be sweaty.”

 

Lana nodded in understanding. “Makes sense. Why were you up?”

 

“You might have heard about Marcus chasing down Cole?”

 

“For real?”

 

“I wanted to stop my brother from spilling anything about Earth. He was drunk. This was about, what, three in the morning? I’d slowed down on drinking by about midnight, realising I was starting to get tipsy off of even the light stuff I’d ordered. I don’t want to be out of control, loose lips sink ships and such. So I got Cole on him to run him out of there. Then I figure it was so late, I may as well have stayed up, so I did, working on a forewording for my essays. The professors gave in to me wanting to make a book of it. I couldn’t possibly think why they’d change their minds so quickly in two weeks,” Ivy winked.

 

Lana snickered. “Not a clue here.”

 

They made their way to the storage room Morrigan was inside, closing the door behind them. Something huge and glowing was before them. Ivy had to stare for a moment to recognize it was a long mirror, pulsing with royal blue and magnetic purple energy, with a very blurred look of ground and cliff and greenery in it. It sung calmly, almost humming at her arrival, magic whisking and flaring around it and lightly singing to her senses. “Oh.”

 

“Your Excellency.”

 

“Morrigan,” Ivy replied, nodding at the woman giving barely a bow to her before turning back to the mirror. “So this is an active Eluvian? Marvellous.”

 

“You know what it is?” There was a sharpness to her voice.

 

“You’ve not talked to Solas at all, have you?” Ivy murmured back, eyes fascinated by the ripples on its surface.

 

Lana snorted, making Morrigan give her a displeased glare.  “Sorry, sorry. She’s just got a point. Solas would love to see this. Be beyond happy to see a working one. Did he tell you of them?”

 

Ivy hummed in agreement and nodded, pretending to still be fascinated by it, eyes roaming over it all in delight.

 

Yeah, she bet he would be.

 

Taste of home, for him.

 

Bah.

 

“I thought they were gone. Busted up or something.”

 

“Not all.”

 

“So the secretive rumour that Briala…?”

 

“T’is true. Now to wonder _who_ has the keystone.”

 

Ivy’s mind instantly went to that blasted elf she adored. Of course he’d have it. “I would suppose Celene. She has most everything else of Briala’s.”

 

“You must be _pleased_ , your predecessor having ways to get out of things,” Morrigan replied, snarky and trying to pin the Champion down in a box she could understand.

 

The martial artist looked at the witch with a pleasant smile, half faked. “Certainly. Celene needs all the help she can get when she can trust _so few_ of her court to save her life.”

 

Lana saw the game played before her and interrupted with a, “Can we go in?”

 

They looked at her, piercing gold and lightning blue on her, charged and making her feel more than a little uncomfortable.

 

Did all powerful people have such striking eyes here?

 

Did she?

 

“It’s what we’re here for, I presume?” The Heir prompted.

 

“How assumingly correct.”

 

“Good of you to acknowledge that I’m correct.”

 

Morrigan narrowed her eyes.

 

Ivy didn’t mind her dislike. No offence to her, but Morrigan was about a decade younger than her without having to traverse Orlais from nothing but scum on people’s feet to dragon-murdering her way to the second highest position. Ivy still had some of her pride unable to be kicked out her, no matter what her father had done to press it out of his kids, the lot of them bold and bright in their own ways. If her commanding of respect to her station was to begin here, so be it.

 

“In? Please?” The Inquisitor pressed in exasperation. “You said… Corypheus seeks something in the Arbor Wilds and that you’d show me? Is it, another?”

 

Ivy suddenly sucked in a breath as she understood. “Morrigan, thank you for bringing this to our attention.”

 

“Hm?” Lana blinked, staring at Ivy in surprise. “How-”

 

The martial artist blinked, wondering at what Lana actually knew of Eluvian’s and why she was surprised her ally would know them.

 

It’d never occurred to her, considering they were from Earth, to question Lana of her knowledge.

 

Actually, she felt like an idiot for not wondering as soon as she was told fifteen minutes ago; what, exactly, _did_ Lana know when Ivy herself had to have learn for years about this world to get to the same level?

 

And how?

 

Did she also touch something?

 

What exactly was she hiding?

 

She’d seen the woman’s body and there wasn’t any mark on her but for the obvious-

 

Oh.

 

Perhaps their marks had something in correlation to each other?

 

“In.”

 

Morrigan waved a hand almost sarcastically – Ivy really had to give her props for being able to do that – and the Eluvian wavered from its’ calming song that sung to her _of travel and worlds_ and brightly trilled, alive and awaiting destination and a vibrant blue. They entered, exiting into a misty stone-paved plain of Eluvian’s everywhere around them, the majority of them broken, some still sputtering with life and fewer still bold with their own energy. They all sung however, chiming of places and feelings and energies. The Heir was struck quiet as the other two talked, the songs in here so loud and calling out for her, wanting to be revived and used.

 

But there was one major one calling her.

 

Ivy peered about. “I shall look around. Continue to talk, I will be back soon.”

 

Morrigan watched her leave, looking around leisurely. “You would trust her, Inquisitor?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Despite her chess playing into an envied position? Manipulating everyone to where she wants them with her smiles and glibness?”

 

“You mistake friendship with The Game.”

 

“Oh? ‘Tis not the other way around, Inquisitor?”

 

The Inquisitor sighed. This was not the first time she’d gotten this from nobles of Orlais, trying to discredit the hunter. “She’s been exactly the same as she ever was.”

 

“Ah. _I see._ ” Morrigan smiled as if hitting some button right, metaphorically making the other mother’s back rise. “And how long have you known her?”

 

“Since before the Inquisition formally began,” Lana stated, through suddenly gritted teeth.

 

“You don’t even see how far around your finger she has wound you,” The witch laughed mockingly. “Even now she goes around, playing with things beyond her comprehension. Look.” The witch nodded over to the woman, who was currently looking over doors critically. “I wonder what aim she has.”

 

Lana frowned. “Aim? She was told to be with the Inquisition by the Empress.”

 

“But not what else she does. Oh, you do not know? Well,” Morrigan chuckled, knowingly, “Perhaps you should find-”

 

Magic blasted them, sending them thrashing back through the Eluvian as a scream of rage entered their ears. They tumbled back into the storage room, heads smacking the ground, the Eluvian cracking and then dying, magic expelling and evaporating into the stone. The two of them slowly got up from such a harsh pain in their heads. It was moments before Marcus and Solas ran into the room, the pair of them staring about cautiously before helping the ladies up. “Milady Morrigan, are you well? Do you require healing?”

 

“No, Lord Montgomery, I do not.”

 

Solas helped the Inquisitor up. “Lana?”

 

“Just dizzy and- _Ivy!_ ” Her head looked to the broken mirror. “She’s in there!”

 

“What?!” Marcus said disbelieving before he turned to the mirror and let his magic raise, willing it to do as he wished. Pieces of mirror rose at his show of power, tiniest of fragments included, and the shards slunk back into formation, but no magic reformed. It was just a mirror. Marcus smacked it, trying to let the last magic raise but… nothing was there. “Ivy?! Ivy!” A blue of magic surrounded him, whirling around and around and around and trying to focus into fixing it, immense and strong and causing the others to step back, to bring her to him and thrust it forth into the mirror, but only splutters of blue and purple magic echoed from it before disappearing.

 

Exhaustion lined him from such magical output. “No, no, no. One more try.” He closed his eyes, but a hand was on his shoulder.

 

Solas looked up at him. “It will not work.” Even he could not heal them. It needed specific resonances of magic he could only accomplish when fully powered. That Marcus could get this far without the Fade joined to the physical world was incredible.

 

“My sister-”

 

“We must find another Eluvian to save her.”

 

“First we must take down the forces of Corypheus, so they number our own. Inquisitor, you must go to Adamant Fortress.” Morrigan stated. “Take away the wardens and their blood magic and we cripple Corypheus. Then… he also seeks the mirror in the Arbor Wilds. We must go now, Inquisitor, Corypheus waits for no one.”

 

“Without Ivy?” Marcus growled, turning from the mirror.

 

“Of course,” She said derisively. “ _Inquisitor Lana_ is the one with the _mark_.”

 

“Whatever you think of her, _Morrigan_ , my sister still has the army loving her, Chevaliers and Inquisition forces alike. She kept her people _alive_. That she is gone will be a blow. They will notice her not here soon enough and I will not keep her missing _silent_. I did that once, it will _not_ happen again, not while I still breathe and can try to find her like she did me,” Marcus swore and left.

 

Morrigan’s lips pursed. “You should stop him, Inquisitor, to upset the armies before battle-”

 

“I understand. Both of you. But you lob off a leader, and the army is weakened. Ivy still kept control of our army, sending schedules and updates of new practices she’d found and recommendations of trainers. She is gone. Marcus will do what he can, but he now has control of what Ivy left behind and it will not be as effective. Not with a third to half of our troops being Orlesian being commanded by a Ferelden and a Tevinter.”

 

The mirror brightened up and was smacked into suddenly, and they saw the back of Ivy falling down it before she got up and turned, slamming her hands into the mirror and tried to do something, _anything,_ with the mirror, before realising she could do nothing. She had no useable magic. They saw her face was pained, and scared before realisation occurred and she breathed out. Strength lit up her features, and she began touching the screen she couldn’t bypass in a searching manner, feeling the magic but unable to do anything about it. She snarled, “I will not fail Orlais. You will not fail your loved ones, Ivy. Wait. Still active? Lana, Morrigan? Shit! Marcus! Tell him – Ack!”  She jumped a humungous bolt of energy from the side. She tried one last attempt at pressing through, running hands over the frame desperately. Nothing. “Dú wǒ de bǐjì! ** _Dú w_** ** _ǒ de b_** ** _ǐj_** ** _ì! Tell Marcus_** **_Dú w_** ** _ǒ de b_** ** _ǐj_** ** _ì!_** ”

 

_Read the notes!_

 

She sucked in a breath and dashed to the left.

 

The mirror shattered once more.

 

After a few beats, a harried Lana went to the door, slamming it open and calling out, “Marcus!”

 

The angry Scot looked back. “What!?”

 

“The mirror fixed somehow and just broke again but we saw Ivy! She said-… do wo de bigi?!”

 

“You mean… Dú… wǒ de bǐjì?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Marcus stared at her incredulously before nodding in understanding, frowning heavily as he went to his sister’s apartment.

 

Notes?

 

“What ones are those?” He asked himself as he climbed stairs, running up. He went into her room, uncaring of Vivienne’s huffing at him and grabbed the book in Chinese upon her desk and everything it held, leaving. He opened the book as he went, eyes widening at all the tiny characters before him, and the multiple pages. This would take a while. But… There were large characters, ink a bit fresh in smell compared to the others upon this first page. ‘ _Pointy ears of the Fade? Solas, right? He opened the Breach, wants the Fade?_ ’ Marcus felt his stomach drop as he walked to the great hall for food, intending on reading this as he ate to get rid of his hangover so he could concentrate on the upcoming challenges. She must have just worked it out.

 

But how?

 

Why was Solas doing this?

 

“What else did you know, Ivy?”

 

“Marcus?”

 

The mage stiffened at the voice of Solas behind him.

 

“May I ask what that meant? Dú wǒ...?” The elf led on, gaze fluttering to the characters on the page before looking up at the fellow Elvhen, hands behind back in his usual polite manner.

 

“It’s a language we know. Chinese. No one else in this world but us knows how to speak it fluently.” Marcus turned to him, seeing his pained expression before it went into neutral blankness. “Once a billion people other than us knew it. Then our world ended for us, and here we are. Solas, unless you have something to help save my sister? Don’t bother me. You’ve hurt her enough. Oh, yes. I know as much as I need to from her about you. I am not impressed. Fix up, because apparently, she cares a stupidly great deal about you still.”

 

Solas watched him go, inwardly agitated, outwardly nonplussed.

 

Did she?

 

From his standpoint, he was merely a friend to her she was attracted to but no longer marriage material.

 

Did he actually have a chance?

 

_Enough._

 

When he found her, he was telling her, unable to hold it in anymore. Too many moons had gone by without him devoting himself to her, and he was not about to let another go when he found her. He desperately wanted to go find the other Eluvian, but more importantly to him, he wanted to do something that would honour her… just in case he would never see her again.

 

So he would go back to the Western Approach and figure out what Marcus meant by a billion when he’d never seen such glyph writing before in his life.

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 25th for me as of posting, so happy holidays all x


	33. Those That Hunt, Death Will Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up that imagery gets a little intense when we get to Ivy...

 

 

** Chapter Thirty-Three **

 

 

 

 

Lana swore as the dragon eyed the Warden-Commander it had tossed before looking away, dismissing her as dead and coming after the fun _living_ prey.

 

Clarel turned on her back, breath coming out stutteringly. “In War, Victory…” Her magic thundered through her and she had a snarl on her face, “In Peace, Vigilance…” She choked, refusing to bow to death so easily, and with a thought, every last bit of her magic was shoved to her hand and she slammed it up into the magnificently abhorrent slathering beast above her, hoping to save the people behind her. ‘ _In Death, Sacrifice._ ’

 

The dragon roared in agony and flipped, chipping a wing into the building and then slamming into the bridge, smashing it to smithereens. Every one of the Inquisition dodged with shouts of alarm and the creature shrieked as its humungous body tumbled down the broken bridge. The bridge crumbled into pieces and Lana screamed as she fell with Stroud and Hawke and finally the others of her party. She clipped a rock and it cut off her mindless cry, pain allowing her to think through the instinctual fear of falling to her death and she looked at her glowing hand.

 

A thought and she took hold of the power in her hand, forced herself around and opened a rift.

 

Her body swooped and her stomach rolled as if she was suddenly on a rollercoaster, falling to the floor only for her form to then race back up to the sky. Only it was land once more, and she slowed and finally stopped before it. Gravity as it would in the waking world took over from a thought in her mind and she crumpled to the ground, grunting as her body ached and throbbed. Her stamina had gone _far_ up while traversing the land, but even constant mana drains and lyrium buffing up her supplies while then dodging and concentrating exhausted her.

 

She shakily shoved up to her feet and peered around, finding her companions on all sorts of levels around her, some upside down, others sideways. She wobbled, but Solas grabbed her arm, keeping her upright. “Thanks. Are we…?”

 

Solas brightened up, finally feeling some delight. “We are in the Fade. Physically.”

 

Lana swallowed, terrified for a moment as it was confirmed.

 

He felt her tremble and looked at her. “You have us by your side, ashalan.”

 

Lana’s eyes widened and she snapped her eyes to his. “What…?”

 

_Daughter?_

 

“Exactly what I mean.”

 

“Because, Ivy is gone?”

 

“Yes. It is what she would have wanted.”

 

“Thank you.” 

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

An immediate elbow came at the dragon hunter, something Ivy easily swirled around, holding onto her opponents’ right muscular bicep and lifting up effortlessly with her right hand, left leg swinging around and getting blocked by a hand. Said hand tried to grasp on but she snapped it back in an instant. She shoved herself out of the way as a blast of fucking ‘something’ came at her, her toes digging into the ground, turning her around on a dime and coming in low in a burst of speed.

 

Ivy’s heart thundered and her teeth gritted as her opponent back-flipped once more to a bunch of broken Fade trees, getting high and she followed instantly, manipulating the Fade around her as the elf woman did. She was a natural at it by now. She inwardly cursed those bloody back-flips! The woman was towering in form at what must be eight feet and could get enough space away from her greater reach quickly. Fucker. If she got in close now she could win this, because her opponent’s first dodge had showed her the woman’s nervousness about getting hit by her and she’d been proven unable to touch Ivy at her top speed, both using the Fade to fuel them to greater speeds. Neither of them had a hit on the other – all bruises formed were blocked attacks and didn’t count.

 

The towering female was going all out on attacks (needed to just to keep up with the Scot) and forcing the human at her best because she was one of the best.

 

_A really fucking scary best._

 

Ivy stayed at her top speed just to stay flippin’ breathing for fucks sake, dodging multiple flying strikes from above as the Elvhen woman jumped down at her with a battalion of spears magically appearing at her command. Her mind could barely think, reacting on pure instinct and making her utterly thankful she had been trained in arts so hard that it was as natural as breathing.

 

Her next opponent got in close after her magic failed to hit her target and threw a controlled fist that the human grabbed and swung over, aiming several kicks at the elf’s head that she dodged three of before grabbing her booted foot. The Scot went into a rapid spin to twist the elf’s arm and was forced to let go of lest the enemy have her arm twisted off. Ivy caught herself in a handstand aiming several kicks once more, until she went to strike at the blonde’s knee, only for her opponent to kick out. She shoved up onto her leg, righting herself with a flip of her body so her left hand was on the elf woman’s outstretched right leg, her body curled up and aiming furious kicks towards the elf’s body that she dodged and then aimed her own punches at Ivy.

 

The both of them shifted, realising they both could easily lose at such angles and parted swiftly, staring at each other with neither challenge nor entertainment, both simply in quiet thought at how they could beat the other. The land around them was filled with broken trees and wrecked ground, mixed with bones and sand and mud. Platforms of earth floated by, half demolished, turned every which way. The pair of them barely acknowledged gravity, fighting upside down or parallel to the ground. Even now they were upside down, floating the Fade to suit them and trying to shift the other off balance in an attempt to gain the advantage.

 

The elf shifted her weight to the right to miss a hit from Ivy, knocking her hand away but the martial artist used the power of the block to spin around and the elf then dodged the low to high kick Ivy sent her with her own whirl away from it. Ivy’s own balance shifted forward and she shoved the elf leg away that came low, using the opponents’ forced lowering of her strong leg to jump on it and spring a knee to her face, but then blocked and incoming punch with an open palm and Ivy shoved herself away harshly, spinning the elf around and up again, causing Ivy to spin the opposite way with quicker momentum going from a high right to a low left and sweeping her leg in a diagonal motion down. Ivy aimed her high-speed kick at the elf’s thigh and her eyes widened when she actually got her.

 

The woman was thrown back by the kick, slamming harshly into a floating platform, the piece of land cracking and sprawling all ways, dust heavily floating around her.

 

Ivy stared, disbelieving she’d finally hit the woman after what must have been hours in this upside-down world, dodging random bits of scenery and having to adjust to fighting in different landscapes when the whim took this insane elf woman.

 

“Ir on’esem.” The elf smirked as she stood. “Elvara’lam.”

 

_I’ve chosen well. Time to make it more difficult._

 

Multiples of her appeared, all gleaming in long flowing clothing she’d only seen in art and making Ivy still, disbelieving.

 

Oh… _shit_.

 

“Tesilem, panelan?”

 

_Troubled, warrior?_

 

“Ir tu sou,” Ivy replied slowly, getting her breath back and letting the Fade calm down around her, letting it flow through her to give her back some energy, a little trick she’d used for however long they’d been there for to keep her awake and energized. _I’m still strong._ “I’m not giving up anything.”

 

A spear appeared in the original woman’s hands vibrating through wherever they were and glimmering like starlight.

 

“On’ala. In pan ma.”

 

_Excellent. There’s a fight in you._

 

“Shit,” Ivy swore and she ran forward to the first of the elf multiples, ducking the reactive fist and slamming an elbow into a stomach and making the elf bend over before slamming her knee into her nose and taking her out. She did a roundhouse kick into the temple of the one next to her and also knocked her out, bending back to dodge the next fist and grabbing the arm to slam her over her shoulder and into the nearest broken tree trunk, stepping on her face and breaking her jaw without a single bit of hesitation, concentrating on the next one.

 

The elvhen woman had to focus on them _all_ , Ivy got in an instant, and she couldn’t do it anywhere near as efficiently as just one.

 

She ducked a blow and grabbed a pair of large rocks from the Fade ground, throwing it at the head of the first elf woman she saw and hitting her face, while the next rock took out a different copies’ knee as she stood up properly with more rocks, giving the Fade a loud ‘CRACK!’ to commemorate the next woman’s broken nose with while her next two opponents came at her with vicious snarls. They dodged her weapons and came up to her angrily while she simply ran at the next one, swept into a low kick to the knee, into a higher kick to the groin and finally another knee to the face, breaking bones each time as she forced magic into each attack now she knew her attacks would hit. Ducking the kick that came at her from the left, she quickly grabbed the falling leg, punching the knee of this one and slamming an elbow into her nose and shoving her into three elves behind her to get some space.

 

“ _Fenhedis!_ ”

 

The artist swirled around the next punch coming at her, grabbing the arm and twisting under it, stepping right up close and slamming her knee into the twisted arm and breaking it at the elbow, pushing the elf into the next two to come up to her and fight her, sending the three tumbling back. Two came up from behind her and she grabbed one fist under her arm and shifted outward so the next one’s punch went into her captive’s bicep and spraining it badly, only for her to jump back over it as the next fist from her came at her and she broke the copies arm. It made the elf jerk in shock and then screech in pain as Ivy swiftly grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head onto the bone poking out, causing both to scream out.

 

A punch to the shoulder twisted Ivy but she grabbed the hand into a painful lock and slammed her foot into a high kick to the neck, slamming the elf into another person about to join in and barely surviving a lightning fast spear slashing at her belly that she jerked away from with an in-suck of her belly before a strong low kick from Ivy broke the ankle. The woman dodged the spear thrown and the next three flying through the air at her, running out of the way before a purposefully taken kick made her escape the next pitched spear but got shoved back and away when she dodged a punch that landed on another copy.

 

An arm came around her neck but she jumped, grabbed the long hair and slammed down, pulling the elf over her shoulder and flipping her over, blocking the next incoming kick with the elf’s face and shoving her into the next one coming at her, grabbing another rock on the ground with a point and slamming it into the kickers’ thigh. A high kick from another was aimed at Ivy’s face but she grabbed the ankle of the leg from the kicking enemy that was still on the ground, shoved her shoulder to smash her onto her side and stood on the back of her thigh and forcefully yanked her leg harshly to the side to break it. Another foot slammed into her bound chest, causing her to cough severely, but Ivy held onto it before she could pull away, twisted to the side and wrapped her leg around hers and ruthlessly slammed them down to the ground in a way that didn’t hurt her in the least, breaking the elf’s femur as she used the elf for a pillow.

 

It was easier to fight multiples of them, having only smaller places to defend from.

 

Then a punch hit her upper shoulder, and she was unable to dodge as a spear came at her side she had to get out the way of.

 

She mentally fortified herself for more pain, growling.

 

No concept of time, because all she could do was react, body coated in sweat and muscles aching and knuckles bruised to shit before the next slurping in of Fade when she had a moment revived her weariness a little.

 

Ivy went on the attack, going for it until the end.

 

She could do nothing else.

 

The elf smirked widely from afar, simply watching her waste her energy on her copies.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You can rescue her.”

 

Solas looked at The Divine sharply.

 

“She is in the Fade. Close to this domain.”

 

He snapped out, “ _Where?_ ”

 

“Who?” The Iron Bull questioned, more alert at what was happening, trying to ignore himself being surrounded by _demons_.

 

“Dragon Hunter.”

 

“Ghi’myel’an emathe’in.”

 

“She’s-?!” Lana looked at The Divine in determination, not knowing the words. “You can show us? You can show me where my mother is?”

 

‘ _The Place of the Hunter’s Embrace?_ ’ Solas narrowed his eyes. “Inquisitor. I know the Fade best, I will leave.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Hamisa’halani, da’len?”

 

_Desperate, child?_

 

Ivy was, shaking, exhausted, about to collapse, a spear in her lower body and another in her shoulder, bleeding out.

 

She was going to die.

 

“Tel erelan, telir panelan.” The elf cocked her head, blonde hair touching the backs of her knees.

 

_You aren’t a mage, barely a warrior._

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Lanaimem na.”

 

_You’re defeated._

 

“N-No.”

 

“Rosa gluin’en sule’Andruil.”

 

_Kneel down to Andruil._

 

“Teleolasan,” Ivy coughed up blood, body one large pain, barely standing in the glade as her knees shook and she started to go cold. “I don’t… understand… why you’re doing this.” She choked out.

 

The elf tutted at the Common coming from her mouth and if there wasn’t a wrap around her eyes, Ivy was sure she’d be glowered at. “Vir’revas ma.”

 

“ _I’m_ the way of freedom for you?” She mumbled weakly. “Oh.”

 

It hit her then.

 

The reason she was brought to Thedas.

 

It was simply to free this elf.

 

To be a tool for her release, nothing more.

 

Everything gone in her life.

 

Her world.

 

Her history.

 

Her people.

 

“ _Rosa gluin’en_ ,” The elf hissed, striding forth and grasping the spear, just to twist it.

 

Ivy yelled in pain, tears falling as terror overcame her, feeling her mind begin to darken as she slowed, feeling her body shut down. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck! She was _dying_! _Dying!_ “No,” She trembled in pain and fear, clawing her hand around the spear in her gut, coughing up blood, red hot fire burning her middle. “I don’t wanna die!”

 

Spirits watched, hoped, whispered words of bravery and comfort and strength.

 

She heard none of it from inside the huntress’s domain.

 

The elf did, seeing lesser servants that once scraped and kowtowed to her every whim watch on in vibrating worry and anger. “Hmph. _Mesilde_. Ga’lin.”

 

_Pathetic. All of them._

 

The enemy smiled vindictively and rose her power, forming her spear of starlight once more.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

  

 

Solas felt the horribly familiar power from far across the Fade, but it seemed the others did too, heads snapping in that direction.

 

“Go fight the Nightmare! Cole!” Solas commanded, holding an arm out and the Spirit grasped his forearm, knowing exactly what he wanted.

 

He was there in a flash, metres away and he focused in on-

 

His eyes widened in horror at the sight of Ivy and then at the elf he’d known well once.

 

_…Andruil._

 

Hatred coursed through him as he began working on the intricate barrier he’d put up long ago.

 

“ROSA!” The elf roared in Ivy’s face, spittle flying and she let out a wave of power that had the dragon hunter cowering against the tree she was speared to, knowing these were her last minutes alive, “GLUIN’EN! SULE’ANDRUIL!”

 

The dragon hunter gave a smile as her eyes closed, peace overcoming her because bowing to Andruil was something she wouldn’t do, was something she innately knew would free this evil scum into the world and because she saw him over there, far past the elf’s shoulder and frantically moving his staff. Some Kindness Spirit had helped her find some _Solas_ in her last moments.

 

Heh. He’d like that one.

 

Mm.

 

Well… Maybe not.

 

“Ena’salin sum ma i halam’shivanas, Andruil.”

 

_I’ll win over you by doing my duty until the end, Andruil._

 

After all, if she died here, with no way out for either of them, that meant this crazy fuck would remain here. Thedas would be safe. She didn’t question the sudden fluency in Elvhen, mind too gone for that now, about to die.

 

“Samelava’vena i ena’sal.” _I will find my way out and begin again!_ The elf flung another spear into her with hatred, causing Ivy to be pinned to a Fade tree, bones breaking, lung pierced and blood splattering. In her fury, the Goddess ripped the spear out, uncaring that Ivy’s eyes bulged and she piercingly shrieked in torment but certainly smiling vindictively as her ticket out of here shuddered in the last dying breathes. She gloried in the pathetic quicklings pain and for one extra memory slammed the spear right on back in so only the blade went in, shanking to the opposite side of her abdomen, gleefully gutting the woman, intestines falling out. “Emma sou’i’ve’an ena’salin.”

 

_My power of the Fade triumphs._

 

Fade… power…

 

Magic?

 

Ivy dug deep into herself with her last stuttering thought of what she wanted, hoping that _it is small now, a flicker_ would react to the fact she wanted to do blood magic with all of it out of her and primed to be used.

 

Her tongue and chest **_burned_** as her fingers clawed the tree she’d been speared into.

 

Spirits rose up as Solas finally broke the barrier with their help and they rushed into The Hunter’s Embrace.

 

“Diana’min!” Andruil backed up as power encapsulated her as held her down, bearing it’s strength upon her and crushing her, all the blood reacting heavily with the might of the Fade itself. “Stop this! Move back! Get away from me!”

 

“ **Andruil.** ”

 

The Evanuris turned around as she blocked an attack from a spirit of Bravery and shouted out, “Fen’Harel! Help me! I bow to you! I’ll serve you! Do your every command! Save me!”

 

Solas lifted a spear of Andruil’s.

 

“Please!”

 

He clenched a fist and snapped it in half.

 

“ **Ivy ea falon’saota.** ”

 

_Ivy’s my bondmate._

 

Andruil’s eyes widened in dreaded realisation.

“ **Dinemah.** ”

_Die._

 

He rose his staff and swept it, ice slamming into the wretched elf’s body as the blood magic Ivy used and the Spirits combined killed the near on impossible to eradicate Evanuris. The Spirit of Compassion grabbed the essence of the elf’s power and brought it over to Solas who was rushing to Ivy’s side, wanting to vomit at the sight of her gutted, speared, bloody body.

 

_Dead._

 

Solas snagged the glimmering wisp that was Andruil’s power as two other spirits surrounded the dead woman stabbed into the tree.

 

_She was dead._

 

“On three, Cole, Bravery, Righteousness. One, two, three!”

 

_Not living._

 

Spears were ripped out and he slammed the powered-up energy into her chest, hoping Andruil’s incredible talent at apotheosis lingered in the ball. Magic flared out from her chest and he focused on her body healing itself, pulsing with light and power. For a moment, all he could feel was the elf huntress rather than the dragon huntress, but the blood magic and Spirits around them swiftly negated that and with a final push from himself, Andruil was gone, Solas had put the power of her into Ivy, and her blood magic conquered the spirit completely.

 

All traces of anything else were never there.

 

Her body healed itself at his push, magic-imbedded blood and organs slipping back into her body, skin zipping back up without scarring. He felt his magic reach its limits but he didn’t stop. He needed to make sure she would be fine and the Spirits around him helped as much as they could, sending their magic into him. He used a zap of his magic to guide her heart into beating once more, flushing new blood through her. He made sure to wipe any potential disease from her, but her body was being completely saturated with Fade, remade and renewed as one of the Elvhen. Then he stopped, because he could go no further and she was as well as she would be.

 

Exhaustion lined him, still unable to truly use everything he could, but physically being in the Fade helped immensely. Movement caught his eye and, not staked by spears to a tree, the unconscious woman finally fell forward and he caught her, falling to his knees as he stared down at her in pain. She was alive, sweaty and bloodied and disgusting and her armour ripped and torn to shreds with gaping holes where the spears had skewered her, but _alive_. He cradled her to him, unbelievably relieved, even as she trembled in her unconsciousness because _Creators_ that meant she was alive and not lost and not-

 

_Impaled. Left for dead. Guts spewing, acidic stench flaring out, trailing over her feet next to her stomach._

 

Wrath railed through him.

 

If there had been time, he would have done far worse.

 

Bah. Time.

 

He’d had a lot of that once.

 

He was wondering if it was worth the effort now with his dragon hunter like this.

 

They’d all be like this, The Evanuris.

 

Mad.

 

Spiteful.

 

Insane with desire to have revenge on all.

 

He would have to tread carefully now he had more than himself to protect and not just give up his life to take them out.

 

Still, for a moment, he let those thoughts go and breathed her in, wanting to cry in relief.

 

So he did, burying his head into her neck, shaking and sobbing at her dying before him, tortured and murdered.

 

If there was ever a time for a person to sob like a child, it was now.

 

But her body was warm, her pulse active, and her lungs filling with air.

 

_Alive._

 

She was alive!

 

Movement of spirits watching got his attention long minutes later after rocking her because regardless of his relief, he had to get them out, exhausted as they were. “Cole. I must ask you guard us out.”

 

“I shall do so,” Bravery came up, an orange outline for a body shining with hints of gold. “I would be honoured to serve you both. As would they,” The spirit stated, and gestured to the agreeing spirits that lined up. “We await your acceptance.”

 

To not do so was foolish, a power lost if he said no. “We take you on as our own.” Their aura changed slightly, accommodating their new purpose in them and they seemed to gain a vibrancy from it. He approved, standing up and lifting the human in his arms easily. “Guide us out.”

 

They did so.

 

Solas followed.

 

It was in a moment that they were transported to the sight of Stroud facing off the humungous form of the monstrous Nightmare, fat and gigantic from the fear it’d eaten and no sign of the open rift to Adamant. His magic sparked in him, protective of its should-be-bondmate, and his eyes glimmered blue, turning its legs to rock with the last bits of his power. He felt empty, but the Spirits ran riot over the demon and Nightmare was stopped, collapsing to the ground and then struck down by Stroud, proving the true valour of Grey Wardens that Solas had been hoping to see.

 

Stroud looked around alertly, looking for the next enemy, but seeing only the elf mage burdened by a being in his arms and enclosed by the spirits that had just surrounded him a second ago. “Messere Solas!” He ran over. “Are you harmed?! Is… That’s the Godslayer! She is… what happened to Her Excellency?!”

 

_Godslayer._

 

Solas thought to himself on how true that was now for even if he took the final blow, her blood magic would have destroyed the elf.

 

“Yes. I am missing much magic and this is Champion Ivy. She was lost in the Fade for weeks. My companions will lead us to safety.”

 

“Can they truly?” Stroud asked in hope, turning to the spectral beings and Cole. “I thank you for any help you can give us. But how can we get out? The Inquisitor and her companions have left!”

 

“It’s the Fade. What change and dreams you want will happen,” Cole said dreamily now the realm of Nightmare was dissolving away as they spoke and the more neutral and chaotic feel of the Fade came about. “She was always good at finding things. Good and bad, it didn’t matter, the chase and the hunt did.”

 

Solas was still unsure exactly why Andruil and Ivy had been fighting to the death, how Andruil had gotten out and brought Ivy to the Grove, though some ideas lingered in his mind even now. He did wonder of which the two Cole spoke of.

 

They were strangely alike.

 

He looked down at her, but their personality was the only thing he could see that was –

 

His lips twitched as he spied something.

 

There was the _tiniest_ of points to the tips of her ears.

 

How… ridiculously _cute_.

 

“What does that mean? Can we change the Fade?”

 

“The Fade is all about Change, Warden Stroud,” Solas stated, “For now, we follow our spirit guides.”

 

Stroud wanted to know if that was wise, but with at least a dozen or two around him, an unconscious Heir and a Fade expert by his side, he wasn’t foolish enough to say anything. He nodded, made a motion with his hand that said _lead the way_ and he stayed next to the man as they went on their way.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pain I had with this damn chapter... Ugh. But I do like it!
> 
> Can someone explain the Serah/Messere titles for me? Serah is... Ferelden I think, and Messere is Orlesian? No?
> 
> Also, a spirit of Bravery is a nod to me using Ivy in my other fic, ha. And Godslayer sound like a heavy metal band. My Elvhen translating skills probably sucks, do forgive me!


	34. Missing Holes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for over 9K views, 500+ kudos and all those amazing comments by the way! Super thrilled to see you like this!

 

** Chapter Thirty-Four **

 

 

“Solas, I must wonder, we have been here for what is at least two days,” Stroud began as he relaxed on the other side of the chessboard in clean clothing of the Orlesian nobility, “And I have not yet felt any need of my body, hunger or elsewise?”

 

The rift mage nodded, moving a pawn and bringing a glass of red wine to his mouth. “Time has not gone by fast. It trails by like a snail in the outside world and not here. You are not of here and the Fade reacts to your needs.”

 

“The Fade has that possibility?”

 

“Possibilities are endless in the Fade. Indeed, mages get their power from it by pulling it from this world to the next one we call home.”

 

Stroud hummed as he took in the next move, quiet for a moment before shifting a knight. Then he smiled as Solas’s piece moved without touching it. “I have heard of it from the Inquisitors adventure with the Tevinter Altus. That it is even more obvious here? I am not surprised. Why is it this way right now? With the time difference?”

 

“The Spirits wish for us to heal, and I asked for time. They can only do so much, but some days here will have only moments pass in the waking world. It will have us refreshed and hopefully fully healed in the case of Lady Ivy.” Not only that, but he wanted to grow his power here and was constantly recycling it in himself, pressing the sides of his magical core out to what it once was. Potentially more if he could manage it. It was so concentrated here that he could already feel it amassing greatly. Not only in himself either. Without control, Ivy’s core was greedily sucking all it could in, stretching and causing her great distress in her sleep. She would be very uncomfortable for a good while until it settled in her or they left the Fade. Whichever happened first.

 

He wondered what she’d feel now with the ability to use magic. She accepted it in others, but accepting in others and accepting in yourself were two different things. He wanted her to come to love it.

 

Blue eyes flickered over to the woman sleeping on a bed outside, sun shining on them all and keeping them warm. She’d not moved from the position he’d put her in, though her body jittered from exhaustion, twitching as if in fight still. He hoped it would not be permanent, but he believed she simply needed rest. A lot of it. If he was right, then the hunters had spent most of the time fighting, which meant they’d potentially been battling for a month, this due to how long it had taken himself and the troops of the Inquisition to prepare and then march upon Adamant. He didn’t know how it was possible – even Andruil had not the stamina and could not do as such and she was the type to try. But as the world here lengthened in time and not outside, it was more likely they’d been fighting for a day or so. But it could easily be longer than even a month.

 

It depended on the whim of Andruil.

 

He looked back at the board with disinterest as his mind whirled.

 

Solas and Stroud hadn’t spent that much time interacting with each other, both too interested in the Fade and the Spirits. Stroud had asked for a match when he had seen the board and he’d wanted his mind away from Ivy and her recovery in that moment in time, so he had accepted.

 

Yet now all he wanted to do was sit by her and try to boost her healing, have her open her eyes and speak with him a little so he could reassure himself she was on the road to recovery. That the magic wasn’t causing her state to dip or leave long term undesirable effects such as the shaking. He’d not seen her talk since before she’d died. He _needed_ to hear it.

 

“You care for her?”

 

“We are close friends.”

 

Stroud made a move with his other knight. “No. Your eyes linger too much. It is deeper for you. I had thought she was the intended of the Grand Duke.”

 

“She was.”

 

“You knew her before she knew the Grand Duke?”

 

“Yes.” He moved a pawn.

 

“Please tell me it is not _la splendeur des coeurs perdus?_ ”

 

Solas had to pause for a moment, knowing he’d heard that before.

 

Now where…?

 

Ah. Blackwall and Josephine.

 

“It… is possibly like this. Check.”

 

“She is not a woman for this. She came from nothing. I met her when she was destitute, helped her when I was stationed as a Chevalier in the city, got her clothing and a meal after she helped one of my fellow Chevalier’s from a tough spot. I gave her some money on the day she met Frederic. She was an excellent leader for one of the hunts we went on, courteous and playful and pandering to paying nobles but rowdy and laughing and genuine with her group. No, she will have no mind to lost hearts splendour and that you think it is a possibility shows why you do not have her by your side.” Stroud sighed, knowing he was blunt, knowing he’d likely offended the elf. “Solas, she does not see station as much as others do. If you fear it is because of your elf background-”

 

“No. I will not talk of this. That is our privacy you tread on.” He tipped over the King. “Checkmate.”

 

Stroud bowed his head. “I apologize. It is not my business. However, it will be the business of Orlais and Orlesian’s if you do, and I wish you luck, my potential Empress Consort.” He smiled in amusement at Solas’s somewhat withering look. “She is an excellent wife to be had.” The small smile lingering on his lips dropped and he frowned deeply. “Tell me, she will be well, yes? Our Heir will be-” He cut himself off, desperate to hear the yes.

 

Solas was surprised by this. “Your tone? You care that profoundly?”

 

“I count myself lucky in that we have had chance to meet each other and fight side by side, even if it last was seven years ago. She is honourable, and she is now Heir. Yes, I care that deeply, as, I believe, Orlais does. It has been too long since my beautiful and dangerous country has had such a supreme person to rule them. Empress Celene has made difficult progress and should be known for that, though not be forgotten for the terror she has also committed with the razing of the alienage. Ivy will lead us through this war against the Breach and she will share the glory, like she has done multiple times before. She will be honoured above many leaders we have had in the past. Orlais will be greater in her care. Even Empress Celene sees it and wishes to use it.”

 

He looked at the board as he thought about his plans of bringing the Evanuris back by ripping the Veil apart, of the person before him, sitting calmly in the _Fade_ without any fear but of that for his next Empress. “You truly believe this?”

 

“Yes. I will follow her. She will be _our_ Empress.”

 

Solas wondered at the possessiveness in that tone, the fierce protectiveness. “Does she have supporters in Orlais?”

 

“I do not think even she knows how many she truly has. The dragon exhibitions go down in price because she wants people to visit, to be cultured and educated. She always gifts her staff – I quite enjoyed the cake she sent me and the griffon carving when I arrived back in Val Royeaux after I became Grey Warden. She treats people like her family. These things get around quickly, both to admire and take advantage of, but still do the Orlesian lips _move_. Orlais will improve. Orlesian economy has already gained a boost in trade by her control of dragons. These are what she brings to Orlais before even being part of the court. She will do more.”

 

“Highly esteemed, I see.”

 

“There is something to say about someone going from nothing to something great. I hear it is the same for her brother? A slave, to a member of the Inquisition and a fellow lead soldier with Commander Cullen in the biggest battle the Inquisition has thus far faced?”

 

“Indeed so.”

 

“Perhaps it is something grand in the family lineage? Actual dragon blood perhaps?”

 

Solas chuckled. “I would thank their mother for the core determination and social prowess, but the father for their charm and skills.”

 

Stroud’s eyes zeroed in on him, intense and utterly intrigued, leaning forward. “You know them?”

 

He took that in, blue eyes closing as he shook his head. Orlesian’s were… fervent. Reverent in some rare cases, like now. It could not be said they lacked for passion, whether it be in romance, deceit or obsession. He would have to look out for Ivy. She exhausted of such manipulations and slyness easily, much preferring camaraderie and dealing with possibly backstabbing then and there of it happening instead of fastidious and constant behind the scenes manipulation. She had an impatience there he would help her with, firmly on her side. “No. She has told me of her past, however, and I will keep that protected.”

 

Stroud leant back as he stayed looking at him, fascinated. “She tells no one of these things. Yet you do not pursue her? Not even when rumour has it she seeks a man and child? It has not been long since the Grand Duke passed, yet… Solas, I would press you to go for her. I care not that you are considered below her station, or elf, or mage, because there is something there and you have the temperament she needs to excel in her role as Empress. You care and wish for her safety and are clearly clever.” He tapped the chessboard, thoroughly outmatched. “It is a damn sight more than most Empresses get in their lifetime. If she cares enough to have you know her past, then please, help her look after her future and Orlais.”

 

The Warden got up, gave a low bow with the twirling hands and left.

 

Solas watched him go thoughtfully, mind heavy before he too got up. He went over to the bed Ivy was at and sat down by her side carefully. He looked down at her frowning features and put a hand to her cheek. “It will not last so long, vhenan. You will be well again soon.” He rubbed at her furrowed eyebrows, massaging the frown away. Her head shifted away from his touch and he thought she’d awaken, but the frown simply came back again as her body went into spasms continuously. “You still go through such pain…”

 

Naturally she didn’t answer.

 

He thought on Stroud’s words pensively, his core need to bring back his People struck hard as he took in the last months that had gone past.

 

People were deeply struggling to survive, having more grit and determination he remembered his People ever having, for even their arguments lasted long and were listless affairs.

 

There was passion all over Thedas.

 

Could his apathetic People even survive coming back to fight against all of this willpower to live?

 

He closed his eyes.

 

Could he fight against the woman he cherished?

 

Should he… stop?

 

Unable to decide without seeing her awake, first, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead lingeringly. “Please awaken soon, vhenan.”

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ivy did not awaken for another week and a half.

 

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at the light blue sky above her, lips parting. She felt her body twitch a couple times, remembering the exercise it had and her insides felt frazzled and nervous. Why was her body so…? Her eyes widened as memory hit her hard. Ivy sat up hurriedly, checking her body over, brushing aside the flimsy cloth – _who the hell put her in this flimsy bloody nightgown?_ \- and touching her torso where injuries had been, looking down shakily. Pristine skin. No scars or marking or aches. Nothing to show what she’d been through. Her armour? Where was her armour? She looked around and saw it hanging beside her, holey and wrecked.

 

She jerked back, incredulous and frightened.

 

It _had_ happened.

 

Her eyes burned and her throat clogged. She cursed the tears coming down her face as shock set in, highly strung as she closed her eyes tight. She felt it before she heard or saw it, grabbing the person and ramming them to the bed, about to crush their neck, snapping her eyes open in snarling anger and sheer menace and murder in her stare as she choked the attacker. Magic built up threateningly.

 

Solas stared up at her, alarmed and in fear, before a moment passed and he understood, face softening as he felt her shaking hands loosen on his neck. He coughed out, “Vhenan.”

 

“S… Solas.” Ivy stared breathing heavily and ultra-focused before she shifted and collapsed to the side of him, digging the base of her palms into her eyes and making stars dance in her vision. “Sorry. Fuck. I’m _so sorry,_ I _-_ ” She felt her wrists slowly taken, making her flinch and shift her hands into an instantly defensive position, but the fingers were light, barely touching. No harmful intentions. They softly pulled them away and Ivy opened her eyes, black dots shining in her view from how much her palms dug in, only to unsteadily stare up at him looking down at her with concern in those blue eyes. Her eyes flickered around suspiciously before landing on his again, scared and agitated and needing something to help her. “What?”

 

“Ivy?” His voice was calm, low, slow. “What is it you are thinking?”

 

“I don’t, I what- I don’t understand, but I do and don’t and… _Solas!_ ” She burst into sobs.

 

He instantly grasped her and held her to him, murmuring nothings into her ear as she shook from sobs and trembled from exhaustion.

 

Her mind focused on the enemy. “I’m… supposed to be dead. She’s supposed to be dead! I was dead! She’s still dead, right?! It worked?!” She grasped the male strongly, not letting go until she _knew_ that elf fuck was dead. She yelled out, “Tell me that I’ve helped stop some mad woman from getting to the waking world and fucking killing everything!” Her eyes were desperate, tears dripping reactively.

 

“Lady Ivy?”

 

Her head snapped over to him, about to shove Solas into safety until she recognised him. “…Jean-Marc? What the… _How are you-?_ What… happened?” She asked, pulling herself together for the sake of appearances.

 

Solas mentally cursed the warden. His hunter needed to let this out or emotional problems would only exacerbate at the worst time for her. To hold this all back would do no one any amount of good. “We shall tell you our stories. But yes, vhenan, the woman you fought has been utterly destroyed. There is no coming back from that, I promise. I watched her spirit itself disappear.”

 

She stared at him unblinking trying to figure out if she could trust his words because that fight felt like it’d never end.

 

Her eyes shifted away.

 

“I don’t know if I can believe-” She sighed out, looking at her jittering body. “Why the hell am I wearing this thing?” Instantly her body was clad in dangerous looking armour made of leather, metal and dragon bone and she looked about warily, eyes snapping about the place. She had no current trust in her situation. “What is going on? Is this still the Fade? Who are they over there?” Her chest and stomach wrenched, and not in the way Solas made her feel when he’d rejected her, or how she felt her stomach turn when falling off that small cliff with Jean-Marc that one time. Something new. Groaning and growing and greedy. “Damn. I feel like throwing up. There’s too much right now.” She rubbed her stomach.

 

“Lady Ivy? Would you like some tea, or some other warm drink to try and settle your stomach?”

 

“Tea… sounds good. Rose if you have it. Do we have it?” She instantly smelt it and looked up when it appeared before her, Stroud’s kind face smiling down at her in concern. “Thank you?”

 

“I have learnt the Fade is not so bad. May I sit?”

 

Ivy nodded, looking at his clothing as he did so; Orlesian noble style, so it was double breasted and white and tight. No good for fighting in. “You feel safe here?” She also looked at Solas’s clothing, seeing him in an undershirt he usually wore but also an open dark forest green… well, it reminded her of a long open kimono? He had on breeches and foot wraps, no weapon or staff. “You too, huh?” She changed so she was in a loose baggy tunic and matching breeches – and of course, fuzzy orange socks.

 

Solas snorted when he saw them. “I will forever see those, won’t I?”

 

She grinned tiredly at him, ran a hand over them after crossing her legs like a kid and trying to ignore how her hands shook the saucer. “Yes.” She felt mentally drained already, eyes lidding halfway from tiredness. “I’m sorry, I won’t be awake for long.”

 

“It is best you rest.”

 

“I want to hear what happened, at least a little.” She shook her head. “Are you injured? How did you get here Jean-Marc?”

 

“I am well, my Lady. I was at Adamant Fortress. The Inquisition attacked it, trying to stop one of Corypheus’s puppets.”

 

Ivy understood now, a little. “Oh, that. Go on please.”

 

“Of course, my Lady.” He went into the tale, giving quicker sentences when he saw her energy waver. “So, as is right, Inquisitor Lavellan agreed to let me fight off the Nightmare demon. The rift closed and minutes later, Solas and Spirits arrived with your sleeping form. They defeated the demon and guided us here, in what has been a safe haven in the Fade.” He gently took the empty teacup from her. “I can tell more later, when you are not exhausted, Heir.”

 

“C’mon, Jean-Marc, just Ivy,” She slurred as her eyes drooped.

 

“I could not, Lady Ivy.”

 

“Good enough. Hey, y’know, Gaspard was head of Chevaliers…” She yawned and then lay down sideways, not changing from her comfy clothing, crossing her arms. “We need one. Consider it?”

 

“I could simply be commanded to.”

 

Ivy grinned as she closed her eyes. “Nah. It’s there if you want it though. You’d be good at it, I think…”

 

Jean-Marc smiled as she fell asleep within seconds and Solas gently swirled his hand over her, magically placing a blanket upon her. He got up. “That is why she will be loved, Ser Solas. I shall leave you be and I would be grateful for any further healing you could give her.”

 

Solas nodded as the Warden left and turned back to Ivy. He did not want to ruin whatever progress in creation of her magic core the fade had done but… He raised a hand, glowing blue-green, flaring it through her softly. Her core wasn’t stopping in its growth, matching his when at his prime now and still expanding. No wonder her body wasn’t physically healing. Every bit of energy was being expended on stabilising her ever increasing core. He wanted to stop it and was about to, but spirits appeared around him, frowning and shaking their head. “It is causing her pain, continuing the soreness that lingers. It is not good for her.”

 

“ _She must be stronger to face the next of the Evanuris with you._ ” They called as one, “ _You must also grow more powerful. The Evanuris wait in anticipation. They feel one of the great powers disappear and wait in baited breath for what happens next. You must bring him. The other._ ”

 

“ _Marcus. And what of Arthur? He is but a babe, nothing to do with Andruil. Why did he change?_ ”

 

“ _Andruil was a hunter, but she was also of memory and could bring those to godliness, like Ghilan’nain. She hunted for an appropriate body and mind to take over and break out, she found Ivy. Turned her. Turned her brother at the same time for her kin. In turn, Ivy had begun to grasp the smallest wisps of the hunters’ power, made Arthur like her, considered him a grandson, did not want him dead. Would have done for Ellana, but she rejected the potential mother. Rejected. Rejected. Rejected,_ ” Righteousness sighed.

 

“How did she change Arthur? The person must choose. At the time, surely Lana would have ultimate control of her unborn?”

 

“ _Arthur reacted to the love in Ivy’s heart and magic. Instinctively, people try to survive as best they can,_ ” Compassion, _Cole_ , said softly, appearing by him. “ _Arthur’s survival instincts clung._ ”

 

Solas looked to the woman frowning in her sleep. “What happened to her?”

 

The spirit closest, Bravery, answered, “ _Drawn through the mirror in the Crossroads leading to her, taken by the one who slips through and finds missing holes, fought for days on end, killed. Rebirthed, properly, finally, like the brother at the beginning. Had to die. Had to come back alive. Has to expand her power. Has to wait until it is done._ ”

 

He had more understanding, and nodded, letting sleeping hunters lie.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to hoping 2018 is a good one!


	35. Let The Music Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super pleased so many of you like this!

 

 

 

 

** Chapter Thirty-Five **

 

 

 

 

Ivy woke up once more with a terrified start, staring up at the green sky of the Fade.

 

A soft familiar touch of finger to her cheek and she curled into the form of her blasted beloved elf and cried.

 

Solas held her until she slept, relieved she woke and was expelling the emotional build up.

 

A good sign.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

   

The next time the Champion opened her eyes, she needed to move, so she rose, repaired armour appearing on her at a whim and she made her way away from here, pushing her shaking body to go quicker, eyes darting around the Fade garden she was in. Her hand was up, ready to grasp a weapon. Her eyes spied a spirit that bowed at her, a soft yellow and very soothing to her eyes. “Who are you?” Her mind was drained, her chest ached, feeling a slight sucking in of her spirit. She should really go back, knew she should stay in places her Fade expert considered safe.

 

“I am Compassion. Yes. Like Cole.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“You want to move.” The yellow being tilted its head. “You should heal. Can I help?”

 

Ivy narrowed her eyes, wary of fade beings for now. “I don’t know. How would you help me?”

 

“I would possess you. It would not be like the demons. Cole.”

 

The other Compassion spirit appeared, looking around but then going up to Ivy. “Oh. I would not let them stay in you. I would help you myself, if I was not in this body. I cannot do that any longer.” He mourned but looked at her. “Compassion will calm your mind. Until you can calm it yourself.”

 

Ivy sat down on a cloud that formed beneath her, fluffy and warm and comforting at a thought of her mind. “My mind? But… but it’s my body that-”

 

“ _Frayed, nervous, who is there, is she really dead, am I really alive?_ ” Cole replied, the cloud extending and he lay on it. “ _Swirling, smudging, slowing._ ”

 

The woman looked down, ashamed. “I see.”

 

“It is not your fault!” Cole said a gentle hand reaching for hers. “It could never be your fault. You only just survived.”

 

A tremble went through her at that, mightier than the others, and she sniffled, hating that she was so weak. She put a hand to her eyes, covering them. “I-”

 

“You aren’t. I promise. No one weak would have survived that.”

 

Compassion came up to her. “I wish to help you, Lady Ivy. May I help you learn to calm your mind?”

 

“In return for what?”

 

“I am yours to be used, we here have become yours, under your protection and ever to do what you will. It is our need.”

 

“Like House Elves!”

 

Ivy laughed at the reference to that book series from back on Earth. A sigh and she remarked wryly, “I don’t recall saying yes to that.”

 

“Solas did.” Cole waited for her reply.

 

“He does not speak for me. I have not given him that right,” The woman said to the spirits, trying to stop shaking as her mind felt like it was underwater, things hard to understand and hear as her tired mind went sleepy, exhausted and feeling that odd ache in her stomach still, feeling like she was being stretched.

 

Compassion smiled. “He is also yours. We see his mind. He gives himself to you. He claims us under your banner, but the final say is yours. I understand it is too much right now. I still wish to help. Will you let me?”

 

“Yes.” Instantly the spirit flowed into her, soothing, gentle, _compassionate_ , and she almost felt like she was glowing yellow. There was almost a relief to settle into second place in her body, letting another carry the burden of pain and exhaustion and stress for a small reprieve. She felt lighter, her body slowly stopping her twitching as she just plain relaxed. She understood she couldn’t take the encumbrance of what had happened just yet, and that Compassion was willing to. Within moments however, a guilt crept up on her, because Compassion was taking all of that when she should be strong enough to do so on her own - no matter how glorious it was to feel divested from this pain.

 

Feeling her wish, Ivy was given back control mind clouding once more with an ease Ivy disliked.

 

She could so easily fall into nothing, could feel herself wanting that freeness already-

 

No.

 

“It was not one I did not ask for. I wanted to help you. I am happy to have done as I was made to.”

 

“To give Compassion like Cole, yes, not take pain in my stead. I am so sorry.”

 

“I asked to.” The Compassion spirit glowed brighter, acknowledging the culpability Ivy felt at seeing that. “It is not your pain I gain strength in, but that you have been given Compassion by me, that I have helped. It is not a chance I often get.”

 

“Still-”

 

“My Lady. _No._ ”

 

Ivy snorted at being adamantly told that, revelling in her body being still and remaining quiet until the shakes began once more. It was a mental thing. Partly physical until she fully healed from whatever was happening in her… “What is happening here?” She touched her stomach, discomfited.

 

“Magic. Your own core is widening here.”

 

“Why do I have one?”

 

“Andruil had to make you Elvhen to use you.” Cole touched her hand that quaked. “You killed her. Now magic sees a chance to be free from the chaining grasp of the Evanuris and wishes you to have enough of its power to do so, no matter which side of the Veil you are on. It wants to be free, like before. Wants to have the People back to use it. Wants you to fight the Evanuris. Evanuris that took it all. No one else to get to use it. Magic was chained.”

 

“Another fight? Like with Andruil?” She paled and shook harder, mind racing and heartbeat increasing. Her swallowed, tongue feeling about twice the size as her throat locked up. “I-I-I c-can’t-”

 

“You can,” Cole stated, as if it were so simple, squeezing her digits.

 

She stared, bolting onto that belief, body calming once more. “I can.”

 

“You did it before.”

 

“I did it before.”

 

“You will do it again.”

 

“I will do it again.” She then shivered and crossed her arms. Hesitantly, shamefully, she mumbled, “I’m scared. I’m so scared. I shouldn’t be, but-” A hand was placed on her back and she stiffened. “S-Solas.”

 

“Ma’inansha’udh.” Solas settled by her on the fluffy, cotton cloud, taking his hand away. “It is fine to be scared. Not one person would think less of you for being so. You have gone through much trauma, and you simply need to rest, like one does when having broken a bone or pulling a muscle. The mind is a muscle, too; one that needs much care. Allow me to care for you.”

 

She frowned a little but asked, not unkindly, “Are you going to possess me, Solas?”

 

He smiled a little. “Not in such a way.” He drifted the cloud away from the two Compassion spirits and they left. “What scenery would help you relax? Think it.”

 

Ivy did, thinking of her Shaolin Temple back on Earth. The red lacquer paint, the black roofs, the many levels that showed spectacular views of green forests on one side, the winding river on the other side with boatmen fishing seen from a stone railing. The air had a warm mist to it, a usual slightly humid day up in north China and night was settling in, with crickets chirping in the background, the smell of dinner wafting from the main hall and pretty twinkling stars above. Some students would be taking music lessons in the back on erhu instruments at this time and indeed, the soft string music began. She remembered that she would often find herself in a secluded area, in her dark green-grey meditation robes, sitting with her legs through a rail, looking down the cliff the temple was on at the water.

 

Solas looked around, admiring, also taking in her clothing. “Where is this?”

 

“I come from another world. This was a country there, called China.” Ivy breathed out, awed. “It was my martial arts Temple I called home for ten years.”

 

He wondered if she truly meant another world, but pushed that aside as fanciful talking. Another continent, perhaps, that felt like a world away? “It is beautiful. The architecture is so unusual to what I know. There is an elegancy to it I would like to look upon for a great amount of time.”

 

She sat up properly. “I am proud you appreciate it. I was so happy here.” She sighed out, longing.

 

He peered at her, having not intended on her being melancholy. He touched her back warmly. “Perhaps one not linked to a memory that would cause you unhappiness?”

 

“No. This is what I want. It’s bittersweet, but with more sweetness than bitterness. It is good to have it back for even a small moment.”

 

“Tell me of it?”

 

Ivy said nothing for a moment, giving it one good look around and then stood, the elf following as she meandered her way to a thick, stone railing. “What can I say that you cannot already see and feel?” A wind blew, brushing her hair across her vision and so she tucked it behind her ear only for a flair of want to go through her and make her jerk. “What the-?”

 

His eyes flickered at that, a small smirk on his face. “You have gained points to your ears. I must admit, it pleases _me_ to know they please _you_.”

 

She eyed him knowingly at that, a little grin on her face, tongue between teeth. “Uh-huh.” Then she frowned. “Er, why would I have these points? I didn’t before.”

 

“You’ve taken on her power.”

 

“I like me. I don’t want to change.”

 

Solas shook his head and smiled at her softly, putting a hand to her shoulder, unable to stop himself from touching her. “It is only superficial. You are still you.”

 

“Even when we have to stop the others? This Andruil that- oh my G-” Her brain stopped and she made a gargled half sound in the back of her throat and choked out, squeaky, “Was that one of those Elvhen gods?!”

 

“Yes, Godslayer.”

 

She made the same sound and he coughed into his hand to hide a laugh, making her lips twitch. “Don’t you laugh at me!” She shrugged his hand off her and grinned, hiding it behind the back of the hand as she leaned on the stone railing with her elbows.

 

“You’re laughing,” He responded, eyes dancing as he put his hands on the railing, watching her.

 

“Yes, I know and I _hate_ it, _ugh_.”

 

Solas openly laughed at that, relief spreading through him that she could be her still even after such an ordeal. She must have picked up that on in his laugh, curious and yet understanding. “I have every belief you will pull through this if you can laugh like this.” He put a hand over hers and grasped it, lifting and holding it to his mouth and kissing the back of it. “I am reassured.”

 

Ivy was unsure but she mused on that. “I am still in a lot of…” She trailed off, sighing and sagging into the stone railing.

 

“I understand. The Fade will help you be back to you quicker. I feel it best we stay here until we are all healed.”

 

She didn’t feel threatened here, felt relieved of burden more so than she believed she would back on the other side of the world.

 

Just looked at their joined hands, idly running a thumb over his skin.

 

She looked up as she heard a night class begin in her memory. “The Master begins his lesson. I’m… going to go give my mind over to him for the time being.”        

 

“Ivy?” He said sharply at her words.

 

“The Master of an art, the teacher,” She reworded herself as she walked swiftly to her lesson, jogging upstairs and ignoring her body. “He has control over the body, knows the limits, can push them, push you. He will help.” Another bell and she cursed, running up the stairs now, clothing automatically changing to her sports workout gear.

 

Solas did not like the sound of this and followed after her quickly. “I do not wish you emotionally harmed! You risk losing yourself to memory should you continue in this fashion, Ivy!”

 

“Don’t worry, Solas! That’s exactly the point!” She went to the courtyard, knowing herself better than she felt he knew the Fade. Class was already beginning and she felt into step instantly, going into familiar forms. She needed to lose herself in memory. Needed to know that her fighting was still hers. She knew Solas watched, fretting internally from the side. But her whole mentality in martial arts was based on mental fortitude; she needed the reassurance that she wasn’t lost, wanted the exhaustion to make her topple into bed and sleep. She lost herself in the movements, letting herself be pushed for the next few hours, no emotions but stern determination allowed.

 

She felt good when it ended, a touch more in tune with herself. She still shook, but that was fine for now. Her body suddenly decided that time was up and she wobbled on her route to Solas and he strode over, frowning, but saying nothing when she beamed up at him.

 

He swept her up against him. “Are you…?”

 

“I needed that.” She nodded, falling into him but not grasping him back, simply leaning on him. “The repetition was a wonder. Ah, thank you,” She said to him at holding her up, pulled back and then yawned, burying her face into her hands. “I’m sleepy now. Where is Jean-Marc? I want to stay near you both. Make sure my Orlesian is fine.”

 

“Your Orlesian, hm?”

 

She looked at him through fingers, amused. “Yes, _mine_.” She twitched her clothing into the silk orange things she had while in Val Royeaux and jerked at his throaty indignant sound, eyes wide. “Uh…?”

 

The elf’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you do not intend on showing yourself like this to _him._ ”

 

“Well, I had,” She remarked unsurely. “It’s not as though others aren’t.” She nodded at the students in her memory coming out for a night time picnic. She watched his face see them all in shorts and vests or cami, no real sexual overtones going on as the artists laughed with each other. He seemed at first frowning but then pensive, turning to her curiously. She shrugged, putting hands in pockets. “It’s a warm night. Why would you wear lots? We can look, be attracted to, and like what we see, but we’re not animals.” She nodded at a couple that flirted with each other by looking the other up and down but they laughed and laid out blankets for starwatching and simply went on talking.

 

Solas watched and then looked at her, completely comfortable in her clothing. “I had wondered at your ease with showing more skin than usual.” He’d noted she’d popularised a dress that swung around knees in Val Royeaux.

 

“I wondered at everyone’s need to cover up when it wasn’t cold.” She slumped onto the favoured cloud, yawning again and stretching out with arms above her, enjoying the feel of the Fade as her eyes closed. “We have lots to talk about… but later.”

 

“We do.” The elf looked at her, unable to help gliding his eyes along the lines of her toned thighs, over the hip bones, the sleek six pack and cushiony breasts with nipples that were soft that he wanted to make rise. He had to drag his eyes away from her neck and just her body in general to ask, “Allow me to watch over you tonight?”

 

He’d never requested that before. “I will.”

 

It seemed that was code-word for ‘getting to snuggle with me’ because he joined her and instantly angled the cloud so she made a little yip sound as she fell into his arms, legs entangled and making her give a huffing laugh. Her mouth instantly watered, his magic and scent pervasive at this level of intimacy. It was the first in a good while. Shit, when was the last time she fell asleep with him? It needed to happen more- Oh. He did not want it. Right.

 

He leant his cheek on her.

 

…Right?

 

This was not non-romantic behaviour from him.

 

“Solas…?” She drew out, clearly asking.

 

“I apologize for everything I have done to hurt you. I would wholly be yours if you would have me.”

 

“You mean…?” She looked at him and then away at the scene the Fade played of her temple entrance.

 

“I cannot imagine you not here anymore. Seeing you dead before me-” He cut himself, choking a little. “I am foolish to say this now, but you here, like this? I cannot hold back. I would do all I could to make it up to you. Would you let me earn your forgiveness? Would you let me attempt to have you as mine as I am yours?”

 

“I would have to know what your future is Solas. I can’t give myself to you when…” Something hit her mind when she was looking at a lion-dog in her memory of the Chinese Shaolin temple. Her fingers dug into his wolf pelt. She got up suddenly, the lion-dog and the scenery she was in changed as the lion-dog turned to another animal. She was in a memory, watching herself underneath the statue of Fen’Harel as the rain poured down and she was between its legs, knees up and arms around her calves and looking miserable. Then another memory appeared behind her as that first one stayed on her mind and before her, showing Cole telling her about the Old Song on the battlements. Another of her writing her notes in Chinese.

 

“Ivy? These memories?” He lingered on the one of her in the rain crouched uncomfortably underneath that wolf statue, the symbolism in it making him possessive, until the one of her fighting against the Huntress in the Fade came up and he watched in awe at the skill from both sides, having not seen such from anyone in so many hundreds of years. His bond could do that? A human of only a small handful of decades? No one had ever had the skill to beat Andruil in a one on one fight like this, and the woman had even played dirty against his human and was still highly outclassed for a long time. He flinched when it came to the end, saw her desperate and terrified and crying, scared of dying.

 

And then losing and dying.

 

But not without taking Andruil down with her.

 

His fist clenched as his blood boiled at that.

 

Not again.

 

Ivy wasn’t focusing on that, she was concentrating on the one of a wolf turning into Solas. Her hand went to her mouth before she dismissed it, going onto other memories for any reason not to believe he was not Fen’Harel, who locked away the Gods and Goddesses.

 

_Wants you to fight the Evanuris._

 

She wasn’t finding one.

 

“You manipulate the memories so well…”

 

“Tell me what happened.”

 

Solas looked at her, seeing her back to him. “Vhenan?”

 

She held her trembling hands in front of her. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re Fen’Harel?”

 

How had she figured it out? What had these shown to help her piece it together?

 

Ivy was going to know anyway.

 

Sharp blue eyes watched her as he nodded and stated, “Yes.”

 

She felt her chest jolt, even as she already knew it. So he’d been the one to lock them away. “Are… you the reason Andruil went mad?”

 

“No. She was that way long before I had anything to do with it. Ivy…” He went over to her, standing by her side and looking at her face. “I put the barrier up to stop them…” He told her of the wars between them, the Evanuris, of life beforehand, of what he’d done. He talked and talked for hours even as his voice began to get growly from overuse, both of them sitting on a floating cloud. He talked of the Veil, of his plans after, of waking up and finding the world chokingly dry from lack of magic. Of having to bring it down again, of the Orb of Destruction passing to Corypheus, a person he found that should be dead and wanted to kill him off at the same time the Veil broke, only to find the Tevinter able to stay alive and ruining that plan. Of everything the spirits told him in the Fade since she battled Andruil.

 

Then he went quiet, accepting judgement. It felt _so good_ to tell another.

 

Ivy wasn’t happy with most of it.

 

The problem was that she understood. She understood what it was to lose a whole world, going to a world that’s time and technology was far less impressive and desiring only her own once more. She’d given up, because she had no magic to be able to change it. Solas had not because he _had_ the power to.

 

If she was in his situation…

 

She would hate herself for it, but she’d do the same. Especially if her people were regarded as barely worth the effort to spit on them.

 

And she knew she would.

 

But.

 

But but but.

 

The question is, _what now?_

 

Her instant thought was not wanting to lose another home. Orlais. She’d greatly grown attached to it. It’d always been in her head to protect Orlais, fight for Orlais, _her dear Orlais!_ Just, thinking about it… Gone? That was… unreal. But why was it unreal? She had to think on that hard, had to really reflect on that. For regardless of his wish to be with her he now had, Solas would continue on with or without her for his goal. He had that gritted edge in him to do so.

 

She really had to ponder if it was worth fighting him.

 

The power it would take to put a Veil up, accidentally cut off the longevity, even if buffed up by an Orb meant to multiply power… it was a phenomenal, _terrifying_ amount.

 

Could she fight that?

 

And what if she didn’t?

 

What if she chose to help burn it all down? Orlais was horrendous in many debauched, backstabbing, racist, Game playing ways. Did it deserve her trying to save it? It was her home, but, _fuck_. The first two years she was gutter-trash, saw the absolute shit sewer rats like her and others like the elves were treated, had more than done her fair share of stopping Chevaliers raping elven women, then during the years… she’d not been there, really, travelling all over just to find Marcus, any hint of him. It had been only the last couple years she grew really attached to it. Objectively, however, she had reason only to be attached to some people from Orlais. She had even less love for the rest of the countries on Thedas.

 

And in the end… It wasn’t even her world.

 

Now, if he said he’d take her world over, there’d be problems.

 

Was that two-faced?

 

Probably something along those lines.

 

Or was it just prioritising, in some fashion?

 

Something along those lines, too, she reckoned.

 

 _But this place was innocent!_ Something in her cried and she looked up at a forming memory in a bubble floating by of a map, then to another bubbled memory of people in Orlais watching a gymnastics busker show, all kinds of beings alike cheering, all as one in the crowd. What were the choices though? Corypheus taking the world for his own, the shitshow it was already carrying on, or Solas correcting a wrong even at the cost of _ripping the world apart_ and together again at the same time and making the world magical?

 

None of those sounded like a good thing.

 

Not a single one.

 

There was no right answer here.

 

So, then it would knuckle down to – _What did she want, regardless of morals?_

 

Help him or fight him?

 

Logically, she could not win. He was too magically powerful, had far more knowledge of war, and practically knew everything about her. It would be utter foolishness to fight him, especially as the countries would never unite to stop him. Emotionally, she was attached, and to be practical, to have sheer callous self-preservation, she should side with him just to save herself.

 

Ivy wondered if it was the worst decision she could make, but she wanted to help him.

 

 _Damn her to hell_ , but she did.

 

“I will-” She paused herself, making sure to know she would be fully on board with this. Yes. She was. “Help you.” She breathed out, putting her face in hands. A haggard breath was drawn in. It was exhaled. Then she looked up again at him, firm. “Bring back your world, that is. But it’ll never be the same as you once knew. And I fear you will always be bitter for it.”

 

Magic chorused around them, gleaming and swirling and flying around them in a delighted song as if waiting for that, but only spirits paid attention to that.

 

“I will deal with it. I can only do so. And that you are on my side… I will be sure to be fine, to make a new home with you.”

 

Solas’s eyes were only on her, as something like victory and relief and territorial want grasped him.

 

 _Mine, really, truly, mine!_ The little voice in his head growled out possessively. _She wants my world, she wants me!_

 

“I have to help myself first,” She clenched her trembling hands. “But, I will help. Damn me, but I will help you.”

 

Solas got up, then he put himself on his knees before her, hands on thighs, and bowed low. “I will do all in my power to help you, to help you help me and to help us be happy. I swear it. You have my loyalty and me for as long as you would have me.” Magic crackled at the oath.

 

She was terrified and awed by what that meant when she realised the other spirits were also bowing. Magic was euphoric, flashing through multiple scenes of everything and causing havoc everywhere. That made her jolt. “Ah, Solas? Solas, the world is, uh, going a little crazy.” She leaned forward, both hands coming onto his shoulders as she looked around as he rose his head to meet her, taking her awed face in. Her scent made him dizzy on want for a second. He couldn’t think, because her base scent of citrus was as strong as any Elvhen had ever had theirs. He scented her again deeply before looking around and stiffening, knowing this disturbance would draw demons.

 

Cole came over at Solas’s fluctuation of magic, a silent request. “They will guard.”

 

“Thank you, Cole.”

 

The pair watched as the magic triumphantly sang a symphony around them, colours of all kinds swooping and sweeping around like the aurora borealis, only settling a righteous understanding in the pair. Magic wanted this to happen. They looked at one another, wide eyed and suddenly their features changed to a helplessness at the understanding they’d gained. That magic had somehow had a hand in this. They then looked at each other with softer expressions and she coaxed him up by his shoulder to sit by her so they could view it together.

 

Hours must have passed before, “You’re trying to get your ball back, right?” Ivy suddenly wondered softly as they watched and Solas blinked slowly, nodding. “So this year has pretty much been a very long winded quest of _‘puppy go fetch his ball_ ’ for you?”

 

His ears flicked, unable to decide between hilarity or embarrassment and affront as he stared at her. His expression must have been peculiar, because she fell back onto the cloud, laughing. A huff through his nose as he lidded his eyes in resignation, but a grudging smile tilted his lips up when he realised that her shakes had slowed down for the moment as she clutched her stomach and cackled.

 

“She is happily playing the Old Song with her own music now,” Cole whispered to him.

 

“Yes.”

 

The Compassion spirit smiled and said lightly, “And so are you. Your songs will join! Tunes will join soon!”

 

Solas smiled warmly at Ivy still laughing, sighing out happily before he gently replied, “They will.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh, how many of you thought she would help him??


	36. Three Strikes; People; What Comes Next?

 

** Chapter Thirty Six **

 

 

 

Slowly, Ivy learnt to still the shuddering of her body as Solas and the spirits teach her to heal. It was what she first asked for, memories of Gaspard floating in her head, of the times she’d been with dragons and could have helped her group when they were burned badly, or of when she was in Orlais as a gutter-snipe and could have begun her own little practise.

 

Solas was pleased by her wanting to learn to heal first, by her telling him this, and the gritted determination he saw made him proud as she rediscovered her resolve. Still, it was odd when the first thing she did wasn’t healing bruises or cuts when he told her how to see problems in the body with her magic, it was to stare at Stroud, to note that he was missing something, something that, to her, made him feel rather…

 

“Is that what you feel Solas? About humans and elves and dwarves and qunari?”

 

“Because they are less, yes.” He nodded, with Stroud staring at the pair of them, having come over to watch a lesson be taught to the Champion from a polite distance as they sat on a cloud in a memory of a library as spirits guarded and looked on.

 

“Less?” Ivy squinted at Stroud. “Is that what you see?”

 

“You do not?”

 

“No, there’s no spark. But there’s _potential_. Not less. A bud isn’t lesser to a full flower; it’s just yet to bloom.”

 

Solas looked around as, to his senses, Magic throbbed in agreement. He was wary and wondering at this. “Potential?”

 

“To be your People.”

 

“Our People,” He gently corrected, trying to see what she saw but not seeing anything but what he thought was akin to a simulacrum.

 

Ivy grinned at that. “Yes. _Ours_.”

 

The elf put the side of a finger to his chin. “I wonder… Andruil was the only one to be able to change people to our People.”

 

“I guess so, huh? Do you think that’s what magic wants?” The questioned was answered in an instance as Magic flared and glimmered and shimmered. “Alrighty then.”

 

“Quite.” They shared an amused look.

 

Stroud asked quietly, a little unsure of all that was happening, “May I ask what it is you are speaking about?”

 

Ivy hummed, wondering what to tell him.

 

He was an honourable man, but his religious upbringing, like so many else in this world, may have him running when he knew what was what. But Stroud was strong of mind, had joined the Wardens when he found out his family had been killed on purpose because of The Game and his trainer at the Academie Chevalier asked Clarel to hire him. She agreed and did so he wouldn’t become a murderer and in chains. He had been a leading man in the Chevaliers when he had come to Ivy at a sighting of a dragon, afraid to face it but pursing his lips and gritting through it because it was daring to come close to Verchiel. He took responsibility for the Wardens being driven to the point of becoming blood mages by serving himself up to the Nightmare demon so the others could escape.

 

Her mind went to Cole and the lad appeared next to her, nodding in understanding, and Solas relaxed somewhat.

 

“Jean-Marc Stroud. This is akin to a state secret.”

 

Stroud instantly went into a formal stance, fist over heart and hand saluting and eyes intent. “It will be kept for an eternity.”

 

“You’ve known me quite a while, yes?”

 

“Seven years, Your Highness,” He replied deferentially, not shifting from his position.

 

“Tell me, have you noticed my age? More specifically, my aging.”

 

That had the Orlesian frowning. “I… your Highness. I do not quite understand. You are as youthful as I remember you, but you are barely twenty-five, yes?”

 

“Too kind. I’m forty-two years old.”

 

“Forty-three. You died on your birthday.” Cole stared at her with wide eyes, about to say something about the pain knotting her up, but it faded away into the background as she stubbornly ignored it. He understood why humans did so to themselves at that moment. They needed to be strong.

 

“I’m forty-three years old. I don’t age. The woman that I fought-” The memory sprung up and spirits clamoured over to watch it from her point of view. The whole video was filled with no real emotions like other memories viewed in the Fade, only fledging bits of smirking victory or shock, but there _was_ an underlying determination to not lose. Something she’d failed at. She turned away from the sight of spears coming at her and dodging them, having already been through it once. She nodded when Solas put a soothing hand to her shoulder, squeezing it in thanks. “-She was immortal. You know the tales of those ancient elves?” At his nod, the memory flickered to the end with terror blazing from it when she died but then changed to a spirit’s perspective where the soul of Andruil was shoved into her. “After that, I became one as well.”

 

He stared at it, incredulous. Then he turned to her. “You gained her spirit. Are you, forgive me, but are you possessed?”

 

“No. It’s like… gaining a sword after fighting only with fists. Eh, no, that’s kind of a terrible analogy.”

 

“You are saying you are not, Your Highness?”

 

“If Ivy were possessed, she would not have reacted as she has done, or still is.” Solas put a hand on her still faintly trembling shoulder, protective and concerned by telling this.

 

Stroud thought this over, thought of how she’d acted since she’d awoken. The attempts at humour, the curiosity, the caring of his wellbeing. His eyes flickered to the memory of fighting against that woman. He watched it for a moment before slowly nodding to himself. “There is no way such a woman could hide such a side for so long with such cruelty in her heart and her demeanour. I believe you.”

 

“Thank you, Stroud.”

 

“So magic wants you to change, as you say, people to your People? As in, immortals? Is that possible?” His voice had gone to an urgent whisper.

 

She felt it in her, in that core she’d gained that seemed to merrily purr from within her.

 

It had Solas snapping his head to her, eyes keen and intense as his eyes looked at her past her own and right into her soul.

 

Ivy grinned at him and turned to Stroud. “Yes.”

 

“You… wish to try it on me? Make me one of yours?” The Warden asked, swaying backwards in his shock.

 

"Yes. Permanently."

 

“Do you trust him to do his duty, vhenan?”

 

Ivy stared at Stroud and then nodded firmly. “Stroud is an honourable man.”

 

Jean-Marc puffed up a little, wanting to do a better job for such a compliment.

 

Solas mused upon that as she faced him, quietly awaiting his opinion, and he was glad that they were in this together now. That he had allowed someone to help him. There was sheer relief in being able to do so and admittedly it was that which swayed him. He faced the Grey Warden, still saluting them. “You stayed behind.”

 

“I did.”

 

“I intend to re-join the Fade to the waking world. What do you think of that?”

 

“It would be rather useful not to have to use the pot anymore,” Stroud declared practically.

 

Ivy burst into laughter as that as Solas gave him an exasperated look before turning a fonder look on the cackling woman who’d fallen onto him, putting an arm around her waist comfortably.

 

“It is very good not to have to,” Cole agreed, nodding at that sagely, sending the woman into further peals of laughter as Stroud stared at him.

 

She calmed down with a hearty sigh of enjoyment. “I don’t know why that tickled me so much. I probably needed it. So, I doubt it’d be like that?” She questioned Solas.

 

“No. It would not.” There was a wry tone to his words. “The land would be less infused with magic than the Fade is when it joins, but no less present,” He stated and chuckled at the relief on both Ivy and Stroud’s faces, completely understanding and feeling it himself. It truly had been rather… humid in a way, here in the Fade. There was too much magic happening all at once, especially here, at the sight of his personal little space of Fade where he’d adjusted the foci to sucking up as much magic on the sly as he could. There were naturally occurring places in the world where magic was more dominant, quite like how the Veil was thinner in some areas, and he’d been sure to claim one of the stronger ones and hide it away before it’d been snatched up by an Evanuris, having been excellent friends one time with June. “But all would be able to use magic. No need for Circles as prisons, or Templars as jailors.”

 

“And of the people in charge already? Would it not just be another weapon for their usage against the lesser fortuned?” Stroud frowned, moustache twitching.

 

“I was thinking of that as well,” The draconologist admitted to them. “There certainly are people I’d rather not see as immortal from all walks of life.”

 

Cole mentioned quietly, “I don’t want there to be bad people, jiejie.”

 

“Can’t be helped. Always will be, Cole.”

 

The spirit of compassion looked at her earnest, hopeful, “But you can decide! You can choose not to!”

 

“I do not know if that is wise to do,” She said softly. “Of course I don’t want to let the scum survive-”

 

“Then do not let them,” Cole bluntly stated.

 

“-But how can I just choose? I’m not the judge, jury, and executioner,” Ivy said strongly. “I do not have command of people’s lives like that.”

 

Stroud spoke up lightly, “If I may interrupt, Your Highness?” A nod and he went on, “You would, as Empress. It would be a duty as protector to the people to dispense justice.”

 

“Right, I forgot about that title for a moment.” Then she grimaced and after a pause, turned to Solas, holding hands palm upwards and shaking them to stress, “Why did I _agree_ to that?! Why was I so stupid?!”

 

Solas laughed brightly at that, plucking up a hand and kissing in the middle of her palm. “You will do fine as Empress, vhenan.”

 

“How will I delegate? Everyone backstabs everyone in Orlais.”

 

“If you would have me, I would be the General of the Chevaliers. That would secure at least one area that is mostly trustworthy. As much as it can be filled with nobles. But they are _absolute_ to the Empire, to Celene and to you. We are trained to be no less.”

 

“Yes, Frederic was rather unusual to me when he laid out pain in levels the first time he was injured.”

 

Stroud chuckled. “The way of the Chevaliers is effective, but brutal.”

 

“They do not have the greatest of reputations in the lesser classes of Orlais,” Solas mentioned, watchful.

 

Ivy narrowed her eyes at that, nodding firmly and crossing arms. “I do not like that the Knighthood is above legal reproach. That will get changed. Solas, may I ask you work with Cassandra to create some new laws regarding the way they treat people for me to look over? You two are the most moralistic and honest people I know. Perhaps the General can also advise you both on the best way to go about it, being one?”

 

Stroud saluted her. “Yes, Your Highness.”

 

Solas bow his head, pleased by such trust and such compliments she gave. “I would be delighted to. And of the immortality?” He asked of Stroud.

 

“I would like you to try, Your Highness.” The three stared at him and he did his best not to shuffle under the bright blue stares. “Will I need to do anything?”

 

Ivy cocked her head and then shook it. “Nah. This one is… pretty instinctual.” After all she could see it in him, that little hole that simply needed to be filled up. She got up from the cloud and with a thought, magic created the sight she saw. Magic swirled around the gap in him, not so much like something seen like a sparkler or neon light, it was more like a sense, a feeling, kind of like how you knew a basketball chucked at the net wouldn’t hit it, or when you chucked a ball from hand to hand you knew it’d end up where you wanted it without looking at it. All she had to do was guide her own magic around it, hand glowing like an active volcano but with a slight golden opalescent sheen to it and then magic rushed to form around him, gleefully following the will of her magic as it went into him.

 

That’s all it took for the magic to work, spreading and branching and changing him.

 

The Chevalier gasped lightly at feeling a sudden waved on nerves alighting in vibration and then a sudden lightness to his body and put a hand to his chest at the feel of now having magic, of feeling so different and yet more even if he physically felt like less from the airy feeling in him. His mind felt more open and he swallowed, pondering of how he’d once felt so heavy and disconnected. It’s like someone lit a fire in him, peaceful but there, so very there. He looked at her, in awe. “Is this how you feel?”

 

“Like I’m really me but also, kind of new at the same time?” The Fade instantly refilled her, Magic vastly approving of this.

 

“Yes. It is… Incredible. So we are… Elvhen?”

 

“We are.”

 

“By the Maker.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Ivy cracked, making the man laugh and put his face in his hands before running them over his hair and entwining his fingers over the nape of his neck, incredulous. “Now, we need a plan.”

 

Stroud blinked at them, still astonished, “To make the worlds connect once more? Is there no way we can compound on the Breach?”

 

“That is the first thought, yes, but what made it in the first place, the foci, is in the hands of the enemy,” The elf informed as he peered at Cole watching on, staring at Stroud in awe. “He was strong enough to have control of the Nightmare demon you faced off after the Inquisitor and the others left you here.”

 

The Chevalier’s eyes widened as his hands dropped. “It truly was his? So we’ve stopped an army of Wardens and demons, and faced off the biggest one I’ve ever seen. Now the Red Templars are left, as well as himself, the dragon, and the fact he has the foci?” He paused to grimace. “Well, I have no doubt we can put down a dragon,” His eyes flickered to Ivy who agreed with a quick grin and a waggle of the brows, “But all the Red Templars? And to get the foci to open the Breach up further? Perhaps Your Highness can have me amass the troops after we gather information on where they may be? Would the Inquisitor not listen to you to bring her own men?”

 

“I’d certainly have to get Her Majesty’s agreement. I’m sure Inquisitor Lana would be amenable, but where would Corypheus be? He is not-”

 

Cole spoke up, “The Eluvian. In the forest.”

 

“How did I forget that?” Ivy murmured to herself. “Maybe we can trap him somehow? Or at least steal away the foci? Any ideas?”

 

“We would first have to ascertain if he indeed does carry it with him, and if it’s the right one,” Stroud began, thinking and fully into this now. “He would have defences on it, I presume.”

 

“I could take it.”

 

The trio turned to Cole.

 

“I can make him forget I’m there.”

 

Unhappy about him in such danger, the hunter reluctantly said, “It’s viable.”

 

“Say we get it. Then what?” Stroud questioned them. “We get this ‘foci’ that opened up the Veil,” He said in faint disbelief and then continued, “What happens after for the people to not be killed by demons, like what happens now with the rifts? Or for spirits to not be chained by mages like they are in the Imperium? How do we prevent such atrocities?”

 

“That’s a point I was wondering about.” Ivy concurred as she looked at Solas. “The world goes through an incredible upheaval, thousands of people die, and the last thousand to two thousand years what? They just go?”

 

“I have thought of using Gereon Alexius,” Solas offered up.

 

A little furrow appeared between her brows. “His… time magic? Or his glyphs?”

 

“Both, if we can. We do not have to do this in an instant. Now there is the option to save people and turn them into the People, to be able to get rid of the Evanuris, plans have changed. Things can be saved. The best of here. We will need more than just my agents or your advantage of being the next ruler of Orlais. We will need to expand our reach even further. And I would not only save elf kind.”

 

Ivy raised a brow at Solas, scoffing, much to his wry amusement. “You better not be planning to. I can use St. Clements to find people that can be useful. Marcus’s make up business is in multiple countries and settling down shops that can be used as covers or more processing factories can be used to host spies and infiltration headquarters. We can amass people with talents in many things, that will help society, protect it. You say you want to bring the world back? Anything else or just that?”

 

“My duty is to bring back our People and the world we once inhabited.”

 

“And after?”

 

Solas smiled as she grilled him, wanting to be on the same page as him. “People may choose to do as they wish. Yes, there will be fighting for power, but I intend for us to have our own bit of land and power that none would dare attack in vengeance, vhenan. I would not have you harmed, Ivy.”

 

She nodded at that, eyes warm at him for a couple seconds before getting back into business. “So we get as much people, resources and history stocked up as we can and then…”

 

“Then the world can be reverted.”

 

Ivy blinked as _red lyrium, dank cells, the scent of ever present mould._

 

Cole looked at her and nodded. “That world ceased to exist. So will this.”

 

“Like that, huh?” She mused, putting a fist to her mouth. “I see.”

 

The Dread Wolf narrowed his eyes a little at that but Stroud asked, “And what of those other Elvhen gods, like the one Ivy fought, Ser Solas? Would they not try to go after us with the same viciousness?”

 

“I would believe they would. Most have succumbed to fury and battle before the falling of the immortal elves. One I can personally account for,” A little smile tilted Solas’s lips, “Another, Andruil, is dead. Mythal still roams the land and is the only Evanuris to care of her People during the wars, and one other must have died. So five more.”

 

Her mind went back to the Baoding ball she and Marcus had to get her here. “Does the orb have some sort of insignia of the deity on it?”

 

“Yes. In fact, it does.” His intrigued tone told her he wanted to know how she knew that.

 

“What one would have a flame?”

 

“Sylaise.”

 

“Then we do not have to watch out for her. Does this make it easier?” Her head cocked, needing to know her opponents.

 

That made him extremely relieved. “Yes, _greatly_ so. She was of healing, could come back from next to nothing with her once husbands help, would heal other Evanuris for an extortionate price and turn the wars between them to her whim more often than not. None of the others would truly stop her; they were far too afraid they themselves would die, playing right in her hands willingly. She enjoyed the destruction.” He stood straight, hands behind his back and looking more intimidating in that moment as he recalled the past, thinking of the time he’d come to a ditch of his men in return for Elgar’nan being healed, clearly tortured with multiple implements for her pleasure.

 

He remembered looking for them for _months_.

 

Solas told himself he would not tell his beloved that she had taken the spirit of one that was considered the most bloodthirsty and sister to the one that was most sadistic.

 

“Then it is good she is gone. Would we be able to get Mythal on our side?” The Scot inquired curiously.

 

Solas went into thought. He had originally planned to take Mythal’s power into his own to double what he could access, to take control of her People still loyal and bound to her, to fully control the Orb to take the Veil down in one fell swoop and potentially power a way to make the elves immortal once more. The last part could no longer be done by him; Ivy had Andruil’s power he had planned on going to steal for himself from the Huntress to transform the elves.

 

It rankled him that he may be taking on undeserving humans, but he squashed that down, knowing Ivy would never agree to have just elves and none of her people at all. Frankly it was foolish not to bring on as many useful people due to being born with a heritage they couldn’t control. He’d met many decent ones through the Inquisition that would deserve a place in the halls of a new Arlathan. Dorian for example, turning his back on a resplendent life to help and had a sharp mind open to other avenues that genuinely wanted to make his people better. Josephine for another, cutthroat in her Ambassadorial duties with the most endearing smile he’d seen in one with her role. Leliana could prove useful, and having helped out the world during the Fifth Blight, would deserve a place, though he was unsure if he wanted such a capable spymaster about.

 

That would be thought on.

 

It was foolish to keep enemies around.

 

Then there were other useful humans; Gereon Alexius with his glyphs, Bonny Sims with her ability to get a hold of anything, Horsemaster Dennet and his highly useful ability with mounts that would be tenfold when Elvhen, and others. Then the dwarves; Varric, Bianca Davri, Dagna.

 

But he was drawing the line at brainwashed qunari.

 

Iron Bull was skilled and a good man to his group, but he was too easily turned to the Qun.

 

There was no space for that philosophy in the world he wanted.

 

Efficiency be damned, the Qun was abhorrent.

 

However, back to the question. “Hm. There is a chance.” She waited, looking expectant. “Her alliance may come at a great cost to us. But, it is a plan.”

 

“Is it one we want?” The Orlesian questioned to them.

 

“We can find out when we talk to her. If she hasn’t gone insane like Andruil.” The other Orlesian replied and turned to her partner. “How important would it be to get her alliance? Or at least liking us enough not to attack or stop us? And what could we be prepared to give up…?”

 

The plans went on for several hours Fade time, picking apart all the details of what they would do. They all looked satisfied at the end, and it finally turned back to the healing lesson, which Stroud joined in with, helped by Cole, who could read their minds and redirect them. It ended up with passably good skills for first timers, with Ivy’s body finally healed from exhaustion as she allowed Solas to fully heal her with her own being tucked along his so she could feel how to heal with even better understanding.

 

She found when she thought on the fight with Andruil it made her tremble, but shoving it out stopped it. It was a mental thing that would take time. Needing a break to think for herself, she excused herself from the lesson, with three men watching her back as she left.

 

Cole was the one to say, “She is scared she is losing a home that will not be replaced. _Not again. Don’t let it be three strikes and out.”_

 

“Three strikes and out?” Jean-Marc asked curiously.

 

“It is a reference to a game. Three chances, three loses, three homes gone, and game over. Dead.”

 

“Should we go after her?” The Orlesian asked in concern.

 

“No. She wants to remember one of her three homes by herself before we leave the Fade. She is lost without something to fight for. She keens for the stability of a good home, though she knows she is about to willingly give another one up. Just don’t let it be three strikes and out.”

 

It was something the other two men understood well, looking at each other with grim determination.

 

“We will not let her down.”

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had no clue for this title either, grah. Super early update cause I've nearly finished this fic in full! Probs update 16/17 Jan.
> 
> Would love to hear from you! What do you think about Ivy's decision? The plans? Of Stroud? Of anything? Again, would adore hearing from you!
> 
>  
> 
> next ch - marcus dreams, other worlds and fluff :D


	37. Void

 

** Chapter Thirty-Seven **

 

 

 

Later on, Ivy was relaxing on a small, slim, cushioned boat on the river of her temple from memory, eyes closed and hands behind head, content and enjoying the gentle sway and smell of China that was so familiar to her. Naturally she’d played about with the Fade, reliving a European music festival in her own personal bubble that surrounded the cloud she lay on and listening to the rock music with incredulity at the abilities of the Fade, then onto an old animated film from Studio Ghibli, as the Fade seemed to perfectly recreate them for her. She wanted to show the other three, but it was still kind of personal, so she quickly turned the scenery back to a known memory before anyone bothered her and simply chilled out.

 

It was then she felt it, and she jolted up into a sitting position.

 

“Marcus?”

 

He was fishing on a walkway into the river and looked up swiftly at her voice. “Ivy?” He dropped the rod into the river, ignoring the angry Chinese from his imaginary fellow fisherman she could see. His mind formed a bridge to her, desperate to make it to her and his hazardous entry into the sleek boat made her yelp and give out expletives his way as water sloshed over her until she was covered in the scent of her brother, his warm arms tight and worried around her, Fade drying them both. “I thought you were dead!”

 

“Trapped in the Fade. Well, now willingly in the Fade I should correct myself.”

 

He pulled back and she noted his form as somewhat see-through, signalling he was dreaming in the Fade. “Willing-?! Why haven’t you left?!”

 

Guilt hit her. “I’m so sorry for worrying you, Marccie. I was in a fight, the biggest of my life, and I had to recuperate. It was… I died Marcus. I died, and Solas helped bring me back to life.”

 

“Died?!”

 

“You remember we got the marks on our tongues, and who gave them to us? Mine was still alive, which is why I still had mine, and why Andruil pulled me to her whilst in the Crossroads. We fought, for so, so long…” She looked away, a thousand-mile stare turned away from him, only for his hand to gently pull her back to look at him. “I’d rather die than have brought her sadism to the world. In the end… she killed me. But I had the immortality of Elvhen on my side that granted me magic, only a little, just a tiny little candlelight inside me, but blood magic more than made up for it. It saved the world from her.”

 

“Blood magic?” He demanded to know, but at her weak smile that was more a grimace, he understood. Horribly understood. “You used all the blood you could. Gods, Ivy…” His hands tightened on her.

 

“Like I said, Solas saved me when he parted from the others in the Fade, letting himself be at the mercy of the Fade to do so.”

 

Regardless of his thoughts on the male and his sister and their relationship, he couldn’t deny that, “He is a good healer. And he saved you.” His lips pursed. Solas adored his sister that much? To risk demonic possession? Because having no magic while in the Fade was tantamount to near on suicide, or hanging a notice around your neck stating your willingness to be possessed. “He cares for you greatly, Ivy.”

 

“We’re… making a go of it.”

 

Marcus raised his brows. “Indeed? Well, whatever happens, I’ll be here to bitch at.” She was alive. He honestly didn’t care who she dated. As long as she was alive and unharmed and able to smile so earnestly about her partner, he was fine with it.

 

“Thank you, Marccie. Stroud and Solas and Cole are with me, and we are safe and well. This is the first moment I’ve been able to get for myself. Listen, I don’t know when you’ll be waking up, so I have to tell you to situate the make-up stalls and shops quicker, make them hubs for St. Clements or at least dead drops or something. Get information on everyone like we have in Orlais quicker, but quicker. And take note of who is the best at what they do, who you’d want to live with and who could progress a people and who has good morals. Spend more money to get results fast, we have enough of it. There’s a plan in motion to help against Corypheus and change the world, but first we need info. Do you trust me?”

 

“Of course I do. What kind of ridiculous question is that?”

 

“Andruil is dead because I killed her. We’re now of the immortals elves. You have killed Sylaise, haven’t you? Like I’ve now killed Andruil?”

 

His eyes widened. “Yes, how did you know who it was?”

 

She grinned ruefully. “I have people that know things for me so I can pick their brain. Where are you?”

 

“On the way to Arbor Wilds with the troops of the Inquisition. Celene and her people are with us. Tell me you have an appropriate cover up, and not just, ‘ _I killed an Elvhen goddess,_ ’ please?”

 

“Gonna go with demon from Corypheus in the Crossroads and then stayed so long to make sure it was cleared out, like I did after the Ball. It’s expected.”

 

“True. Good enough.”

 

“Ivy?” The two looked up at Solas, frowning at them and looking suspiciously at Marcus before his gaze relaxed as he took in the feel of the male. “Ah, you are dreaming. You can confirm you have killed Sylaise? Silver hair, skin like Ambassador Josephine’s and eyes like Commander Cullen’s?”

 

The man nodded, not letting go of his sister. “And enough jewellery on her person to fill out a shop in Val Royeaux?” He got a chuckle and nod from the elf who came over to them, walking on the green water and sitting on it beside them. “That’s her. I saw the echo of her form before I took her weakened chi in. I have killed Sylaise. It wasn’t actually that hard. She was just a spirit then and my mind conquered her not so there one. I… have her powers. I stayed away from fire at first because I’m just too skilled at it for a newbie, but I haven’t hidden my healing from those who know me. You killed Andruil, Ivy, so does this mean you have her talents?”

 

“Yes, I do now. There was always something there though, flickers of things. Not magic but, I heard the magic of things and felt a lot of deja-vu… stuff like that.”

 

“Deja-vu? Really?” Marcus asked, astonished. “Premonitions?”

 

“Ngh…” Ivy shifted a little as she tried to explain what she barely knew. “No, like. _Other_ places. Such as the time the Inquisitor and Dorian went into the past? I dreamt of it after it happened, waking up to it still in my memory and seared there. Gave me a terrible headache. It’s not stuff seen before. It’s… just other places?” She turned to a focused Solas. “This was a talent of Andruil’s. Can you elucidate on this?”

 

“Apologies, I know that she could find places, things, secrets, as she hunted for all that took her fancy, but that was a talent not often spoken of compared to her crafts in weaponry she created and her hunts of living things.”

 

“Is the tales of the Void true? With the Forgotten Ones?” Marcus asked, curious.

 

Solas shook his head. “No. The Void is not true. There are no Forgotten Ones. They are merely Generals of the armies. Geldauran, for instance, is still known. A good thing, as he was benevolent enough. Tales of me locking away Forgotten Ones are actually of my scheming to separate the Generals from their Leaders to weaken them. This along with imprisoning the Evanuris… the tales somewhat reflect this.”

 

“Void. It’s not that it isn’t true. She called it that because it’s of lost worlds. They’re _voided_ from existence.” Ivy informed. Then she blinked and frowned. “How do I know that? Uh. Never mind that question. Actually…” She frowned.

 

Herself and Marcus were taken on behalf of Andruil and Sylaise. They had the mark to prove it…

 

Like Lana, who had the mark of Fen’Harel.

 

Who also didn’t know Ellana at all.

 

She scoured Andruil’s power, now understanding that Ellana wasn’t here because of _Solas_ , but because of _Andruil_ who was needing another chance to escape, and going for it via the one that locked them there first when the Orb of Destruction was used. It made sense to both herself and Andruil. He locked them there, he’d also be the key out of there. There was every chance, like herself and Marcus, she was simply chosen as a suitable candidate, according to Andruil’s whims and knowledge and wisdom. She suddenly understood Andruil’s choices a lot better. One who, despite ending up in wars against her own sister, would still wish to keep her family alive.

 

It did make her wonder of Ghilan’nain, the lover of Andruil.

 

What happened to her?

 

“What of my time?” Solas asked, uncaring if Marcus knew. He’d know soon enough he was the Dread Wolf of the Evanuris. Ivy would set him straight and he’d given the unnecessary permission for her to tell her brother. “Is it also voided?”

 

“It’s never _been_ voided. You’re here, aren’t you? As is Mythal?” She responded easily. “It’s still the same timeline. It’s not like how Lana and Dorian went into the future because of Magister Alexius and then went back due to the magic and then Voided that timeline. This is still ongoing, a singular construct. It was these disappeared worlds she used to play about in. And truly, they are just… fragile constructs - it’s actually rather disorientating how easy it is to transverse them when you know how. Oh.” She blinked as knowledge came into her head when she conscientiously infiltrated her new magic. “There was an Eluvian that she used, made by June and tinkered uniquely by her. Maybe tales come from there?”

 

Solas pursed his lips at that. So that was it. Andruil was always known as the hunter, but she didn’t last for thousands of years as an idiot wall of brawn seeking to kill only. She had been ever curious when younger, and he’d spent many hunts with her exploring parts of the world with her closest, such as her beloved Ghilan’nain, who he rather thought Marcus somewhat reminded him of. _It was the hair_ , he thought, _the same colour_. He’d always remembered it. “That she went to hunt in other fields no one else had knowledge on was known, yes. It was a relief when she was gone, to her followers.”

 

Marcus mused lightly, “ _Grant that your eye may not fall upon us. Spare us the moment we become your prey._ ”

 

“That, I do know. Heard it enough from the Dalish.” She sighed out hard from her nose, not pleased. She caught her brothers’ raised brow. “I’ll tell you more later, Marcus.”

 

“I hear a story. So you’re Andruil’s ‘heir’ so to speak like I am Sylaise’s? Curious. Good thing it’s us. But, Solas, we are mentally human. You’ll have to teach us patience and how not to get bored.” A funny look went across his face after Solas nodded at him. “Ah. I’m waking up.”

 

“For now, spread Make-up by Montgomery as much as you can, bro. Get one of each of the St. Clements Bells in each of the nations and charge them with forming more oranges and lemons and choppers. Don’t let each of them know a candle will be watching them. I trust you in business completely, so just tell me of any changes.”

 

“Got it. I love you, sister. And come back soon! I’ll do my best to dream tomorrow.”

 

“I recommend meditation for an hour before sleep while thinking of here, and of Ivy and her magic,” Solas quickly detailed.

 

Marcus nodded at his words. “Will do. Thanks, Solas.”

 

Ivy rapidly remarked, “Love you too, bro! Stay focused, and don’t forget to send out the Bells of Saint Clements!”

 

He disappeared with a grin and a wink so alike her own, leaving her arms empty with only the amused, fond smile in her memory.

 

Ivy sighed out and looked to Solas from her place in the boat, overwhelmed.

 

He reached out, caressing her face. “Are you well, vhenan?”

 

The Scot leaned her cheek into his hand. “As soon as we get out of here, there’s going to be so much to do, and that’s just the visible responsibilities. I’m not looking forward to it. But I know that when I bite into the meat of the problems I will know I can chew it to bits. Just the massive plate is daunting. You know?” Ivy watched him nod and sigh in agreement. His eyes went slight haunted so she asked with a little enthused curiosity, “Thinking of, I’ve not actually _eaten_ here. Is magic buffing us up?”

 

Solas smiled a little at her intrigue, feeling a touch better at her wanting to know of magic. “Buffing,” He murmured, getting into the slim boat with her. “Such words you speak. Yes. Inherently we are magical and thus right now, in such concentrated form, the Fade can sustain us easily. If you do not wish to think of the waking world, may I ask about this place?”

 

She breathed out wistfully, “China.”

 

“You speak this, yes?”

 

“Chinese? Now how did you know it was that?”

 

“Marcus once said a billion people spoke it and I saw characters of a script I had not seen before,” He informed succinctly and tucked her up against him.

 

She grinned half-heartedly, shaking her head incredulously as she fell into him. “What a memory and mind you have, Solas. Yes. This is a lazy village to the north of China, against the border of Mongolia, famed for this one temple of martial arts. Chinese people practically invented everything of use back a couple thousand years ago.” She thought of the memory of a map and it popped up by her for his perusal. His eyes zeroed in on it, not understanding what he was seeing as this was no landmass he’d ever seen.

 

He looked at the map of Earth. “Is it another continent?”

 

“Solas.”

 

The elf looked at her as she pointed to a memory of them to the side of her in a little square, when she was drunk that one time after finding Marcus.

_“You are right, I do not want you involved in this to keep you safe, but I find myself unable to not be reverential of you. It is for your protection I keep you apart from me, but I want for you so very much, Ivy.”_

_“Is it really so bad?”_

_“It is worse.”_

_“I doubt it could be worse than anything I’ve experienced, Solas.”_

 

Solas frowned at her. “I remember this. I do not understand yet.”

 

Ivy shifted and brought another memory up. That of a map of Thedas below the one of Earth. Then she focused and made them turn into spheres, just like planets with her own twice as large, and they turned, the Fade around them turning into two separate orbits around their own suns, in their own galaxies, her own above his, with a sharp line of lime green between them. “I’m from another world. You came to me with the words-”

 

The memory flashed by. _“I would give you my world, if you would have it. But that means so much more that what you realise. You would lose everything. Everything but your brother and I.”_

 

“-But I’d _already_ lost everything. But for my brother.” Her next memory came up and enveloped the area around them, going from northern misty, humid China to showing crowded Beijing and the Wangfujing street they’d been on before they’d come here. Hundreds of Chinese lanterns were lit above them, dozens of stalls sold food she was sure he’d never seen before on sticks to be eaten, people in clothing of the twenty first century and were talking in the language he’d heard before, even if there were multitudes of dialects of Chinese floating about him. The two were no longer in the boat, but sitting on the corner of a street, opposite herself and Marcus from the memory she last had of China. The smells were delicious and the noise was something she jumped at but quickly grew used to.

 

Solas was gobsmacked, lips parted and eyes widened, head snapping all about the place to find something familiar, definite of what he knew. But _nothing_ was of anything he knew. His mouth closed as his mind calmed to take it all in. The streets were some sort of hard stone, perfectly in line, the buildings fine, gleaming and polished compared to the shack-like places here looked like. The lights in these red cloth-looking lanterns were beautiful to stare upon and the writing all over was the same glyph like writing he’d spied from her notes Marcus had. Looking down the street in the far-off distance, he saw lights on signs with a different script he’d never seen before, and pictures of food and products he hadn’t a clue were for were all over the place, with what he presumed were prices below it immaculate and so lifelike.

 

The people were so different, all of them human, but not one was dressed in anything he knew. Rugged blue material coated most legs, women walked around in short skirts with flimsy material too, with stockings only seen in brothels but no one paid any attention to that what so ever due to how normal it must be. The odd devices they used had him trailing after a couple that stopped and… took a photo of themselves? He sucked in a silent breath at the perfect portrait done in an instant and watched in amazement as she then did something that had it appearing in a smaller form and there was Chinese on a different side. “What? I don’t understand. Why did she make it smaller than it already was? And how?”

 

Ivy had been languidly following him. “She sent the picture to another handheld device like it, called a mobile or cell phone, showing her friend how cute they were tonight. She got a reply along the lines of ‘So pretty! Tell me how the show goes later on! Miss you, baby!’ Wow, the Fade is incredible to know this,” She mused to herself and then suddenly felt her eyes well up at what she had loved so dearly out of her reach as a wave of emotion flooded her. They spilled as she bit into her fist.

 

He understood now.

 

“This is… a whole other world.”

 

She mumbled around her knuckle, “Yes. Like I said, _I doubt it could be worse than anything I’ve experienced, Solas._ After all, you can get your home back.”

 

He turned to her, staring at her face with tear tracks already there. He couldn’t help but shift closer to her and wrap her up in his arms, clutching her tighter when she gripped onto him. “Oh, _vhenan._ ” He gently sat them down onto a cloud. He loved her in his arms, but wanted her to feel better, especially being in his care. She sunk into his arms but that only lasted for a few moments after breathing him in, nuzzling into his body and making him feel good at being who she willingly turned to.

 

It was then she quickly parted and got up, holding a hand out he took and pulling him up with a, “No, enough crying. I’ve done enough. Come on. Let me show you how we got here.”

 

Solas quietly followed, watching the two go into a store full of trinkets, watching them duck down with-

 

He sucked in a breath.

 

_The Foci of Andruil and Sylaise._

 

There?

 

He supposed Andruil would be the one to have such a power, and she always did love her sister… He eyed the sleek balls in the gilded box as they plucked them out. They were small, but that never mattered power wise. The Elvhen watched as the two plucked them up, comforted each other in a tone that suggested they’d sworn something and then _disappeared_.

 

“By the Creators…” Solas murmured, shaking his head as the foci brought them into the Fade, unconscious, but then the foci were chaotic after going through worlds and time. Andruil’s power is what took them through, the Montgomery siblings world now voided from them. Andruil didn’t have enough control after being trapped in the Fade for centuries on end and was practically poisoned on concentrated magic that made her insane and Sylaise devolve into a mere spirit form of herself. It ended up that some of her power slipped into Ivy because Andruil had more control over herself than her sister, while Sylaise was completely taken in by Marcus due to being barely able to think in such a tiny form, the two then slamming into different places.

 

Marcus in Minrathous, where his good looks had him instantly taken into slavery as he stared around, dazed and out of it from a whole new body and Ivy in Val Royeaux, where she’d been beaten up by a newly made Chevalier at her weakest point and left for dead in a gutter next to a dead elf.

 

Fury lit in him at the treatment of them and he couldn’t help but slink an arm around her waist and clasp her up against him, infuriated and needing her scent in his head to calm him down. He breathed her in heavily, keeping her heat up against him to settle him as his magic sparked and growled in him at the injustice handed to him. His lips skimmed her throat, ears ultra focused to hear her pulse to calm him down. Then deep guilt set into him and-

 

Ivy grasped him. “Don’t. I can feel your strong emotions here, with the Fade and magic so around us. It wasn’t you. Or are you going to take every blame for another’s action? You could not control this, at all. No one but Andruil… could.”

 

She pushed away from him, incredulous.

 

“Vhenan-”

 

“I could go back.”

 

Solas said nothing as her mind processed that thought, suddenly unsure if she could or not considering he’d never heard of Andruil doing so before _but she had to have gotten here somehow_.

 

There was no other reason.

 

“I could help you with your home, then go back to mine.”

 

He watched as the memory changed into a younger her with friends in the same robes, laughing, delighted as they went down the same road, the word karaoke repeated in a fun chant.

 

_Happy._

 

Solas stared, lost. How could he deny her happiness when all he offered was nothing but tearing her newest home away?

 

“No, I don’t think- You’re doing it again,” She changed her sentence in exasperated fondness.

 

“I cannot help it.” He helplessly watched the younger version of her go. “You look so carefree.”

 

Ivy peered at it and then banished it so the Fade was around them now. “Agh, Solas, you pain in the arse. Do you know you fall to melodrama rather often?” Ivy looked up at him, bright eyes striking into him at her sheer determination.

 

“But your _world-_ ”

 

Her brows rose as she cut in, “I’ve already done enough mourning for it. Yes, of course seeing it makes me wish for what was, but…” She felt her shoulders drop as she shook her head. “I’m so changed from what I know I was. I could not return. It is too different now, _I’m_ too different, and I’ve already come to terms I would die here. Chasing after dragons like a mad woman to gain my brothers attention, always going dramatic like the Orlesian’s just so I could find him. Even instituting a whole bloody spy operation to find him! I fully expected to get found out and to be assassinated because of it. Didn’t expect the persona of ‘Ivy the Dragon Hunter’ to get so big instead.”

 

“Do not say such things, vhenan. There is still a chance to have your _home_.”

 

“And how do you think the odds are against my brother and I falling back into the right time, at the right place, on the right planet, and in the right universe? Two to one?”

 

“Your sarcasm is duly noted,” Solas replied dryly, even as he held her closer, sheer relief flooding him at her amusement. “You must have spent too much time around that Tevinter boy.”

 

Her eyes shimmered with joy as she cheekily said with a just a touch too much glee, “He is going to be my brother in law, and hey, forever to be a pain in the neck for you!”

 

Chuckling, he gently tugged her head back by the roots of her hair, which she hummed at and he thrilled at the darkening of her eyes. His lips touched down to hers, gentle at first before her emotions flared around her with the lust and want of him that she held, easily curtailed by the soft love she felt for him outweighing her desire for his body, and pushed his lips against hers. He was desperate for a moment as he pressed harder and kissed deeper, needing to know she would be there, that he wouldn’t lose her after giving away so much of himself in the last week. All his weakness and hope divested into her and she kept it sacred, kept it cradled and cared for and helped to make it work and by the stars he _loved her_ for it.

 

**_Loved her._ **

 

Loved her deep and true and could think of no one else and felt the emotion heave through him, powerful and demanding and realised she was vital to his being as, “Ar lath ma, Vhenan,” choked out of him, not realising why she was becoming blurry until she ran a thumb over one eye and swept away liquid and then firmly did the same to the other eye, care in her touch. He shook, running a hand over her face, over her cheek and into her hair and kissing her hard again and again and again. He needed her there, the first of his People to come back into his life, the first woman he’d found sincere attraction to once more in so many centuries even before he made the Veil, the first to be there for him, to listen at his most vulnerable, to care about his blasted hygiene before she wanted to make love to him before she fully knew him, offering a drink with that grin of hers.

 

“I’m not going, back, So’.”

 

“I am so glad you will stay.”

 

Ivy choked out, “Solas-”

 

“I love you, my heart.”

 

He stared down so hard and longing and loving that she couldn’t look away, couldn’t help but reply, “Ar lath ma, Solas, ma’lath, ma’… Sasha’ishan?” She questioned. _My only man._ At his eye brightening at her words she repeated with more strength, “Vin. Ma’sasha’ishan. Please tell me I got ‘my only man’ right?”

 

A choked out laugh and he nodded, running a hand over her face in wonder, smiling in astonishment of her. “Vin. Ma’inansha’udh. _Vin._ ” _My happy eyed lady_.

 

Ivy grinned up at him and burrowed into him, the scenery turning back to the temple setting once more, now on a large dark wooden swinging chair with luscious cushions around them and she sighed out, swaying them back and forth. She leant back and tugged him to her chest, feeling oddly protective of him and making sure to focus on it so he’d feel it.

 

He chuckled at that feeling pulsing in her but swept his arms around her waist co-operatively. It was only when it remained strong he realised she meant to show it. He shifted his head up to peer at her, seeing the unwavering gaze back. “Ivy,” He murmured, only to see the flash of determination flare in them.

 

“I want you to know I’m going to protect you. Even though you’re better at magic, smarter, more experienced, _possibly_ a better physical fighter,” She cracked a grin at his amusement and slid her hand up to cup his cheek and run a thumb over his brow, “And even though you were likened to a God at one point, you are mine to care for. And I’m going to make you happy.”

 

Solas watched the Fade around her shimmer with power at her firm words and felt a weight leave him. “I look forward to it.”

 

Pleasure floated over her face and she grinned at him, and then closed her eyes after gently putting him into position on her unbound chest so he could rest well. “Good. Now, cuddles. Very important.”

 

A squeeze and happy little sigh was her reply as he listened to her steady heartbeat and fell into the most content rest he could ever recall.

  

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snuggling is very important.


	38. Lightning Crackles, Thunder Rumbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten K views and over a hundred bookmarks? Aw, shucks! You guys are utterly flattering!

 

** Chapter 38 **

 

 

 

 

Ivy nodded at Marcus as Solas put the memory of the map of St. Clements places to be stationed into his head for when he awoke. There was a massive map of Thedas before them floating vertically, with the marked locations highlighted. The plan that was used in Val Royeaux for the spy group, hiring problems on purpose to weed out the backstabbers and sell-outs, would be used but on a much smaller scale to save time. The mission wasn’t to get every scrap of knowledge and blackmail to get the upper hand like in Val Royeaux (and that one would be maintained as that was a base of power and money for them), it was more of a seek and collect data on people. The Bells that were once in command in the Orlesian capital would have it be considered ‘getting a promotion’.

 

Marcus would come back again to tell of updates or problems. He’d developed a way of communicating by hand held mirrors and glyphs like a phone all based upon the Eluvian. He’d hated not being able to fix the Eluvian and had worked on that with Solas giving hints during dreams. Marcus said he’d taken her Tevinter stamp first as just protection of her things if she truly was dead, but then as proof to prove it legitimate all words on it were Ivy’s, telling her she’d only been using it in one way. He’d teach her more when she came back he said, though it’d only been a day on the road on his end. That had surprised her and Stroud, as the four of them had been planning for what felt like weeks in the Fade.

 

Smiling when they instantly turned to him, pointed looks of intrigue on their faces, Solas informed, “We are in a specialist part of the Fade, helped by spirits that have listened to our need for time that I flared out. They enjoy our memories and that powers them up to maintain the need of time we are enjoying.” It could only be done by having spirits as their own, and he would tell her that later when they weren’t planning.

 

“Fascinating,” Ivy murmured, crossing arms but putting a finger to her lower lip, watching them and wiggling her fingers in hello when she caught accidentally some of their attention.

 

“How do our spirit companions achieve this?” Stroud questioned, looking to them wander about and contemplate memories, re-enacting some of them. “Could it somehow help us?” That drew more spirits attention, floating over, their emotion felt around them.

 

The elf looked at the Fade beings thoughtfully, not fully thinking such an idea through when other ones in the waking world served well enough for now. “Perhaps. It is something to think over.”

 

Marcus looked up. “Ah. See you soon, people. Ivy.” His smile softened her way and she responded in the same manner, nodding.

 

He disappeared silently.

 

There was a moment of quiet as they looked at the last place the sleeper had been in.

 

“I think I may speak more with the spirits, see what they know,” Stroud said to them and saluted to Ivy as she nodded at him, leaving them to it.

 

The woman stroked her lower lip with a fingertip as she watched him go. “Hey, ‘Las?”

 

He slipped a hand to her back and slinked around her waist to coax her against him and hummed lowly, pleased, when she did so without hesitation. “Yes, vhenan?”

 

“The spirits said they are mine. That you said yes for me. Why?”

 

“Primarily because we needed time, and a large enough gathering would be enough to promote that. You needed to heal, I needed to regain power, and we needed to plan, to understand…” His voice went gentler here and she looked up as he continued, “And I had hoped to repair what I wrought between us.”

 

“I’m still agitated it took to get to me…” It was still hard to say. “ _Dying_ , for you to try.”

 

“For that, I am immensely sorry, and foolish, to have rejected your earnest affection. I know better now. I sincerely said that I couldn’t see anyone else but you this whole time when I laid eyes on you in Halamshiral and I had decided I couldn’t go another moon without you when after seeing you in the forest after that fiasco. But how could I dare come after you? After the rejection I gave you, time and time again, when I knew I would be tearing your world up within scant years? How could you forgive that? Pleasures of the flesh was one thing, telling myself to give your body all it desires, but to play with your heart? No.” Solas shook his head adamantly. Then he caught her eyes and gave a rueful smile. “But you were a roaring fire I could scarcely resist scalding myself on. You burnt so brightly, even in the previous body of yours, and I couldn’t help but reach forward to you for the warmth that is you. The bud before the bloom. And now the bloom is beyond mesmerizing to me.”

 

Ivy smiled a little at that. “I guess it’s not as though I didn’t bring some of that pain upon myself.”

 

“I should have restrained myself, fully devoted myself to the people, and it _had_ worked.”

 

“You are kind, but I know myself, So- Wait. Had?”

 

“Until I felt the People in you.”

 

Her lips pursed. “ _Andruil._ ”

 

“No. You. You, I had thought it was. Just you, but… Unfortunately so did it belong to her, yes. It began a change I had not expected. My duty was to be solitary in taking down the Veil, to give myself unto the wrath of the pantheon after chaining them away. Their taking their blame out on me would have them less angry at others, and I know they would pity the state of our People, so downtrodden and low, and to see the world as it is would have them humbled. Especially as their power wouldn’t be as great as they would be used to for centuries and centuries. I have experience in manipulating them after all. I had not expected them to have gone mad, to have _devolved_ ,” He said it so distastefully.

 

“To not expect them to use humans from other universes as a last bid for desperate freedom because humans are lesser in their eyes?”

 

“Indeed,” He agreed with understanding and regret, settling them back down onto a swaying cloud that mimicked the sofa-swing she’d thought of previously. He was pleased by her trust in him and the familiarity she’d gained of the Fade to allow him to position her so. It would be good practise for when the Fade merged once more with the world. “All other races were considered lesser, vhenan.”

 

Ivy stared down at her lap. “They were. Yet the humans of now are more civilised and you surely must see the similarities between _our_ specific peoples?” She felt as he nodded at that. “And the sheer difference between my own humans and these ones here.” She shook her head and breathed out, lying on his lap now to look up at him. “I wonder who would win in a war, your people or mine? Hm, that’s a terrible question.” She frowned at herself.

 

“Your people are that advanced you believe they could take on the Evanuris?”

 

“How many people do you think there was that could rival the powers of the Evanuris? What was the population of the immortals?”

 

“The Evanuris were a league unto themselves. The next power… perhaps a couple hundred? Around that. As for the population, a census would have been about five hundred thousand.”

 

“So rather small amounts, then. Makes sense. I wonder if Thedas is simply smaller than my world.” Ivy looked up at him, seeing his raised brows at her easy taking of that and knowing he wanted to know. “About seven and a half billion people live on my world. Probably more now if time has gone along as I have felt it. It’s an estimate. But we’ve had wars in which we lost at least thirty million in one because of believing a race of humans shouldn’t exist. Then there’s… a lot worse. Some estimate one dictatorship went up to about seventy eight million deaths. Over a period of under three decades. Though two thirds were in a… four? Year period? You’d have to ask Marcus. He’s rather on that sort of mass murdering thing out of sheer morbid fasci- Oh.” She caught his face. “Uh… Sorry?”

 

Solas was quiet for a time, stroking her cheek as he stared down at her, blinking slowly at the casual _millions of lives lost_.

 

Was that another reason she could do this?

 

Her people were that used to so many lives gone so quickly?

 

Her eyes simply watched back, putting hand to his and caressing the back of his hand.

 

“It is best we keep our worlds separate,” Solas finally stated.

 

“Yes. Let’s. I’ll show you wonders of it another time. Not just the bad side. Block it off completely, is my opinion of my world. But… maybe, because we live for a long, long time, maybe we could visit other worlds if this one gets too much? If Andruil could do it when while insane and trapped, then so can we when not.”

 

Solas’s brows raised at that. “I don’t see why not. Another world is… an intriguing potential.” And beyond a relief to know there would be more to life than what he knew.

 

“Right?” She flashed a grin his way, which dimmed a little as she asked slowly, “So, why are you- no. Why do you put yourself under my banner?”

 

“To show my dedication to you.”

 

“I, what? You’re giving me people?” She asked slowly, squinting up at him. “I have a lot already. Not spirits, granted.”

 

“The spirits need to link themselves to a domain, which is usually controlled by a person. To feed from our memories emotions’, and to give back to the world with the output of magic they naturally do from it,” Solas explained. “It is that why it is so easy to tie or bind a spirit or demon to yourself. Part of them requires it. Yet more people I have failed.”

 

“And are now seeking atonement for.”

 

“It does not excuse what my actions cause others.”

 

“Would it be better if you simply let it be?”

 

“No.”

 

“And you are trying to fix it. And I will not let you _forget_ that as well.” He seemed to not feel the weight of those words. “You went into Uthenera after locking them away, exhausted. When you awoke, you saw what happened and instead of ignoring it or bereaving, you instantly set about trying to fix it. That’s incredible to me, that you have such a power of will. Even when I found myself in Val Royeaux I was depressed for months, scared to even take in the new world around me until hunger forced me out.”

 

“You should not have had to go through that.”

 

“It wasn’t you who brought me here. You set about trying to fix a solution to the problem of constant war and torture you’d solved. Do you think Celene has even thought much of recreating the alienage she burnt down five years after doing so? Do you think the slaves cursed you for making them free from such tyrannical overlords? Or do you think they wept in utter relief the terror had finally come to an end? That even though they would die, and their magic was gone, a life without sheer horror at seeing their people be enslaved and killed, raped and tortured, used and abused, of not having to mark their words and their very thoughts, was worth it?”

 

He grasped his knee fiercely. “How can it-”

 

She cut in harshly, “ _Solas_ , you’re thinking like a leader, an Evanuris, one who _could protect himself_. At cost of sounding like Sera, _little people don’t matter to the big people_. They don’t have power. They can’t fight for themselves. The mindset of subservience, of being nothing but useless toys for all your life? It gets to you. The constant knowledge of being nothing to someone with power is _suffocating_. What’s the point of fighting something you can’t win? Might as well have some safety. Like an insect against an elephant, to them!” She turned around to be on all fours, and continued on heatedly as his eyes remained glued to hers, unable to blink. “I know you spoke to Blackwall to apologize after your words when you found out what he did, and the penitence he sought in trying to repent. You approved that he tried when everyone seemed to hate him for his actions. Sounds familiar, yes?”

 

“That’s not- that’s- I-”

 

“I know you respect Sera for always helping the little people against the big people, because freedom means so damn much to you. That The Iron Bull chose his mercenaries and turned his back on the Qun, on brainwashed people with no knowledge of personal freedom has you greatly approving. Tell me that Cassandra letting go of what has become a mighty power without any regrets of holding onto it didn’t garner your respect?”

 

He could barely breath as she laid this on him, blue eyes sparking with power as her chin lifted.

 

“Solas. Do you think they thought, oh no, no magic, or-”

 

“ _We’re finally free!_ ” Cole breathed out from appearing next to them, feeling the shakiness of Solas’s emotions. “ _Thank you! Thank you, Fen’Harel! A true God of the people!_ ”

 

“Fen’Harel, the People’s God. You’re a damn revolutionist, Solas, _and that’s what they saw_. Are their views and feelings and thoughts not legitimate to you? Unacknowledged because you refuse to see what actually is because of your guilt?”

 

“Of course it is acknowledged, but the consequences on the people, becoming the downtrodden _knife-ears_ in the lands-”

 

“ _That_ , you cannot take guilt for. I refuse to accept that. The people had a chance to rebuild and grow, perhaps mundane now, but they had every chance to grow as dwarves or humans did. All kinds were on the same level then. To learn, to trade, to build foreign relations and links that was due to them, not you. Or are you a one-man government, now? You can take the blame for lack of magic and immortality as you wish, but after? After you had no dealings with them. They were a people unto themselves, and I am adamant you accept this. You’ve done what you can to free them, it was up to them to survive with the gift of freedom you’d given them. Just like you told me with putting magic back into its’ place that your duty was to tear it down and restore immortality, that after it is on the People what they do.”

 

As if to push it in, the memory of it played right next to his face.

_“My duty is to bring back our People and the world we once inhabited.”_

_“And after?”_

_“People may choose to do as they wish. Yes, there will be fighting for power, but I intend for us to have our own bit of land and power that none would dare attack in vengeance. I would not have you harmed, Ivy.”_

 

Ivy pushed, “You see? It cannot be both, vhenan.”

 

“She believes it is just your guilt speaking,” Cole commented, watching how the knot in him had untangled so quickly with Ivy nodding strongly.

 

Fen’Harel had no words. His arguments had never been ripped apart like this before. His mind was blank, feeling like he’d been fervently wrung through and was currently hanging out to dry, soaked in the raw emotions left in him.

 

“Then… perhaps we should find a place, to look after them-”

 

“I’m not having you take on the guilt, Vhenan.”

 

“No. I… will not.” Solas finally gave in to that. “You have more than made your case. One I wish to shove off the table, but I cannot ignore it. I would- I would take some time to think.”

 

Ivy leant back on her calves and threw her hands up, stating hotly, “And have you find some way to guilt yourself once more?!”

 

Solas pursed his lips, knowing that was a possibility.

 

“Because you have a goddamned guilt complex the size of Thedas itself-”

 

An unwanted laugh left him at the pun of _goddamned_ and at her utterly offended look, he was suddenly laughing himself hoarse.

 

Laughing hard and long and tears fell down his face.

 

Ivy stared at him, gobsmacked, and then turned to Cole for answers.

 

“You made a pun. And then your face made him laugh.”

 

“My face, yeah? Work of fuckin’ art, this one,” Ivy muttered darkly to herself, arms crossing and making him laugh hard again before calming down, but one sight of her displeased look and he was back into peals of laughter, one arm thrown over his eyes as he lay back and cackled madly, passionately. Then her lips twitched as it began to infect her, and when he sighted her, locking eyes with hers, she snorted and looked away, snickering through her nose. Another shared look and the pair burst into laughter. “No, damnit! Why am I laughing?! You! Bloody puppy!”

 

Solas took the shove to his leg with more laughing, grasping her to him and tugging her back, holding her close as he continued to chortle into her hair.

 

Cole’s parting words were, “It is good to laugh,” as he disappeared from sight.

 

Not that it calmed the man down.

 

Ivy resigned herself to being a cuddly toy for the wolf as he went on releasing the pent-up concerns that he’d be drowning in, feeling the need in his grasping hold and snuggling in as she took what his emotions were saying.

 

He felt lighter.

 

Freer.

 

She grinned and snickered once more.

 

He deserved it.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

The Scot cocked her head and nodded, allowing the spirit into her and settling back as the relatively young Curiosity took over with the yellow spirit of Compassion watching over. She’d done this a few times, allowing them to experience what some had never experienced before because of being in the Fade – fresh memories. She could almost feel Curiosity’s aura plump up more powerfully from it and felt herself smile as the spirit held her hand up and with an inward nod, the scene of Beijing appeared all around them. Curiosity wanted to know about the food, and so she gave as much as she could into it, letting them smell the food. It was a pleasant time for the next hour, letting the spirit explore and finding a happiness at having the spirit fulfilling their emotion.

 

“Ivy, this is your home?”

 

Curiosity looked over, the sunshine yellow taking precedence instead of the usual lightning blue eyes. “Good afternoon, Evanuris Fen’Harel!” They waved happily and then went back to examining the scorpions on a stick, inwardly asking about it, but outwardly going, “Ah, I see!” when she gave a reply. “Can I taste it? …Ha! Fen’Harel, do you mind seeing Ivy on an outing with another man? She says she’d rather not see you with another woman so understands completely if you say no.”

 

Narrowing his eyes a little, he nodded, wanting to see what males she had been attracted to before him. “It would have been done if I’d not been here.”

 

Unsure but going with it, Ivy went back to the memory of a boyfriend from nearly two decades ago. She and Jun were dressed casually, he in a plain t-shirt and cardigan with sleeves up and multitudes of bracelets, jeans and fluffy black hair that had a slight curl to it with herself in a cute off the shoulder top and cardigan tied around her waist with a short tiered skirt that fluttered around her knees and brown boots up her calves. The pair were holding hands and laughing over something in Chinese she was showing him on her phone. This was when she had short hair, spiking out in a bob and fluffing round her face. She remembered that, yup, Jun was taking out a coin and doing heads or tails as he nodded at the scorpion stick she grimaced at.

 

Neither of them had been brave enough.

 

Naturally as he flipped it she guessed wrong and groaned, putting her forehead to his bicep with a whine, but he laughed and turned her around and pushed her over to the stall by the shoulders where she took one and paid, with Ivy humming at the familiar renminbi being handed over. She chuckled inwardly at grimacing at it and then giving puppy eyes to the man. From here she saw how close he was to giving into that look but then she’d sighed before he would (and what a missed chance that was to not have to!) and bit into it reluctantly, blinking when she chewed and hey, it was… kind of okay? Nothing she’d buy again but definitely a lot worse than she thought. She nodded and saluted the stall owner and left with a cheery grin.

 

Letting the memory go after a few moments, Curiosity stepped out, gave a short thank you, and left with Compassion.

 

“You look so young there,” Solas commented as he came over, one arm sliding around her waist and smiling at her leaning on him. “How old were you?”

 

“Guess.”

 

“Fourteen, perhaps?” He tried for, a little unsure. Surely no more than eighteen?

 

“Fourteen, really? No, it was… twenty-five? Yeah, I’d have been completely fluent in Chinese then.”

 

“Truly? Your people are younger in appearance.”

 

She nodded at that. “And mentality compared to here, admittedly. But we do generally live to eighty-five, and extra twenty to thirty on the people here in Thedas. An extra ten years of silliness and trying to find yourself or travelling is common and expected in the developed countries. Val Royeaux compared to a random village, for instance. Say, show me something of your childhood?” She asked hopefully and then stretched, sighing at the cracks in her back.

 

He drew her to face him at that, humming as she leaned on him, arms around his neck as he laced fingers together and placed them on her delightful rear, enjoying that and the attention she was giving him and the interest of his youth she had. “What would you have me show you?”

 

“Something you loved as a child?”

 

“Hm. That I can do. Look.” He turned her once more, holding her around the stomach with her own laying on his, gently caressing the back of his hands as she leant back on him. He chuckled as she snorted at him playing with a pack of wolves, putting his chin on her head. “How atypical, yes?”

 

“So unusual, yes!” She teased. “Aww, you’re so cute as a kid!”

 

He smiled. “Perhaps our own will look more like me?”

 

“Oh heck no, the Montgomery blues and reddish hair always comes through. Tried and tested, baby.” She looked up pointedly at him, grinning widely. “Has done for generations in my family.”

 

Solas looked at her upside-down face and kissed her forehead, earning himself a lopsided grin and a light giggle. “We’ll see.”

 

The pair watched as little him with fluffy blood red hair chased around what seemed to be a teen wolf, that had its tongue lolling out as it panted happily, go forth ahead of the child that didn’t look any older than seven or eight. They were in a prairie, wildflowers in soft pastels and grass lighter green and sky a pale blue as motes of light were flushed from the flowers as the boy and his wolves rushed through them, laughter and barks echoing. There was a large cabin, presumably his home, and Ivy turned to see his mother making a cake of some sort, shining flaxen hair held back up high, silver clasps and when she looked out, she saw bright silver mercurial eyes and a teasing smile on the woman’s face.

 

“Your ma looks fun.” It was then she watched as the woman transformed into a golden wolf, and chased after them all, nudging her head through her sons legs to roll him onto her back and when he clutched in, she charged them, howling challengingly and making kid Solas shriek and laugh in joy as he held on. “Yeah, get ‘em!”

 

“She was prone to excitability, yes. Does this sound familiar?” The elf asked idly, finger slipping under her tunic to rub at her hipbone.

 

Ivy snickered. “You know, there’s a saying that men end up marrying women like their mothers’ from where I’m from,” She teased up at him, eyes glinting playfully only to yelp and then laugh as he tickled her and ducked her down for a kiss. She sighed into the kiss, arching to press her chest against his, wanting the clothing to be thinner and snapping out of the daze when he hummed, amused. “Hm?” She parted from him.

 

“Our clothing.”

 

She looked down as she dangled in his hold and then at their sides, and they’d changed to replicas of what she wore to bed; her flimsy poets’ shirt, breeches and, she chuckled at this a little sheepishly, fuzzy orange socks. “Could be worse?”

 

Exasperated fondness was on his face. “Indeed. Come.” He straightened them and picked her up, with her legs automatically lifting up to wrap around his waist and hold her weight up as she leant her elbows on his shoulders. He answered the question before she could ask, “Let us rest before we go back to the Inquisition.”

 

She gave a little smile and looked at him fully. Then she grinned and hugged so they were up against each other and breathed into his ear, “You know, our eyes are a great match.” She gave a little smirk as he tensed a touch, eager to hear more.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Mine are bright blue, like lightning, and I always thought yours reminded me of a storm over a sun-setting mountain with the pretty pink around the pupil. I know I like you _rumbling_ up against me,” She whispered into his ear and gave a little grunt when his fingers dug into her as she breathed this into his ear. “Large and deep like the sky itself, _throbbing_ , exactly like how you feel in me, Solas. Rather how I like it, actually.” She licked up his ear and sucked the tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue over it a few rotations which had him giving a choked groan. She sucked at the end teasingly. “Ngh, taste good, thunder mine. Hmm… it is ma sou’ras, vin?” She asked, ‘ _my thunder, right?’_ and lightly ran fingers over him. “Dya ar’an vana?” _Shall we play?_ “You know I want you.”

 

Innately knew he wouldn’t say no.

 

A thought and he had a barrier up, cloaking them from view and hearing and dropping them back onto a Fade made bed, kissing her neck hard. He left little marks of possession and didn’t care as she wished his clothing away. He adored her hands on him, roaming and enjoying what she felt, nibbling along his shoulder and the edge of his collarbone.

 

He growled as she tweaked the tip of his ear with her mouth once more and easily tugged her much shorter body close, dragging her panties down. Dipping his fingers between her legs and hissing at her boiling wetness, he easily slid his middle finger into her, making her give off the sound he was sure only a goddess could make and he swore near silently into her hair at how tight and wet she was, especially as she clenched. “You feel so good around my finger, so hot and wet,” He murmured into her ear, gritting his teeth when her walls clenched and he pumped leisurely, making sure to curl them and find that spongy spot, rubbing her clit with a thumb and clutching her closer at the shuddering curling into him she made. “Want to taste you. Want to feel you come all over my hand. Want you trembling in my arms.”

 

His words seemed to be doing it for her he saw, feeling her hips shift impatiently, trying to drive him deeper in her and he gave her what she wanted as her head turned to him, hand gripping tighter as she got closer and closer to her tipping point and with a final clench and a thrust of his finger she pressed her lips to his and her sweet, sweet moan as she came was swallowed by his mouth. He felt truly godly then, knowing he’d fallen so indescribably hard for this woman so easily and having her fall apart for him after so long without her had him close to coming, too. She quivered and clenched around his playing fingers for a good ten seconds more before her body relaxed.

 

More.

 

He built her up once more, body shifting down to get closer to the core of her desire, head ducking and slicking a tongue up to work her up, desperate to be in her but knowing he’d be coming soon. He heard her squeaking sounds and the needy tugs to bring him up he instantly responded to with a grin of his own, slotting his cock into her with a slow thrust into her hot wetness and the pair groaned at the feeling, taking a second to revel. First time in _so damn long_. He took the time to leisurely enjoy it before her impatient hips circled and she gasped as he bent her up a little in reply, scooting forward so his thighs were under her hips to go as deep as he could while aiming at that little spot in her that had her-

 

She cried out and gripped tight, fingernails digging into his back.

 

“Yesss,” He hissed, loving to watch her go mad on his cock and knowing it was him doing this had his head swimming as she clawed her fingers into him and then she came, pussy clutching and suddenly milking him hard as he gasped and gave a low, long groaning sound of coming into her, magic of her rushing through him in a tumbling blast of pleasure that lighted up his nerves and made even his fingertips tingle. She whimpered at the heat of his cum coating her walls, eyes widening as her body apparently decided to capitalise on it and she came again in an instant, fire and sparks burning in her as the magic in his come reacted with her own magic and she bit her knuckle as she keened loudly and convulsed around him, pleasure scorching through her making him swear in Elvhen and come harder for it. It felt like it lasted forever and then she slumped onto the bed, breathing heavily, staring up at him in shock.

 

She hadn’t realised he was kissing her lips with a muttered, “Ivy?” that was getting a touch more worried each time, until she blinked back into it.

 

“What was… that?” She asked incredulously, wrapping arms around his neck.

 

Solas chuckled at that and drew her close to him as he then replied without removing himself from her hotness, “Sex between mates like us when magic is so free for the taking. It has never been that good before for me.” He watched her, wide-eyed and awed like she was him.

 

“You’re telling me, damn.” A little relieved she had the answer, she gave him a sleepy grin. “So, mates? Mating is simply an act of sex for reproduction in my mind.”

 

“I would have you as my wife. I know you know this.”

 

“Anything specific an Elvhen thing to do?”

 

“Yes. But I must first ask; will you be my companion in life?”

 

“Just so we’re on the same page… That does means wife to you, yes?” Ivy asked curiously, eyes intent.

 

Solas enjoyed the sight and the feel of her tightening her hold when he softly replied, “Yes.”

 

“You’re sure?”

 

“Do not have doubts. I do indeed want you and have done since the first evening together. Will you be my wife?”

 

Her lips twitched up. “Good. I’m glad you do, and yes. Yes, I will have you as husband! So? What’s next?” She tugged at him, getting closer to him, eager.

 

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, he went on, “Bring your magic to your hand like so.” He watched as she copied him, the both of them having a ball of magic in hand and another free, their palms up. “Here. Take part of me as I take part of you.”

 

Feeling it, she copied, their fingers joining, “Take part of me as I take part of you,” and gave over a part of her magic, feeling like she’d suctioned out a part of her very being, and then mimicked his hand pushing it into his chest by doing the same with hers, gasping as she felt him in her. Not feelings, or thoughts or something romanticised like that, just his life force and where he was. A wonderful reminder of the life in her hands. Of the wish to be looked after and to look after, to love and get love from, and to keep each other happy. It wasn’t too different from what she already wanted to do. Now there was just this nice extra layer of acknowledgment from a literal source of feeling him there. _He was there_. “Wow.”

 

“Is it truly so surprising?”

 

With a chuckle, Ivy shook her head, lightly touching his slick chest. “No. It’s not. I am so happy to have you here.” Her hand clenched over her heart. “To look after you.” Then her fingers trailed down to his abs and she asked lightly even as her eyes twinkled brightly, “Go again in a bit?”

 

The male smirked at her, all masculine and prowling as he rose over her. “It’s the Fade, Ivy.” His suddenly hard cock rubbed the head inside her sopping pussy, and his mouth watered as her eyes widened. “How about now?”

 

“Ye-” Ivy hadn’t time to reply as his dick rammed deep into her and she gave a gurgled groaning sound, baring her neck to him which his mouth took full advantage of to makes marks on, and they were lost in lust for what was days after for them.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

Stroud blinked and then chuckled at the spirits unsure balking when he asked to bring him to them, informing him of their lovemaking.

 

“Ah, the honeymoon period.”

 

“Honeymoon?”

 

“The time they would be loved up after binding together. Hopefully they do not divorce.”

 

“Divorce?” Righteousness asked and then soon got his answer. “There is no divorce in the Elvhen ways. It is why Elvhen take a long time to find their perfect partner and then they bond in body and magic as the given magic cannot be replaced or taken away once the magic settles. Never to fight, only to be a pair. Like the twins, and Mythal and Elgar’nan. They could not fight each other, even after hatred set in, but even then, they fought to keep the other alive. It is an imperative.”

 

Stroud raised him brows at that. “Then I shall take my time finding mine.”

 

“You are Elvhen. You have much of it.”

 

The once Orlesian nodded. “True indeed. Now, about the Evanuris…”

 

* * *

  

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, intermittent smut throughout the story was noted early on in the fic, right? *grins*
> 
> Figure Solas needed this. What do you think? Have I redeemed him a little in a logical manner? Do you agree with my sentiment I gave to Ivy about the People becoming people? Would love to hear your thoughts!


	39. Roll Out

 

 

** Chapter Thirty-Nine **

 

  

“This is it.” Ivy gestured at the Eluvian to the men, less grander than many Eluvian’s were created to be. It was made to look like one of the first ones that came about, and thus more useless. They’d had to go through multiple planes in the Fade, but she knew where it was by feel alone, her magic guiding them to it. It’d taken constant training of days in the Fade to get this grasp of feeling, going on various journey’s with a protective Solas, but she’d gotten the hang of finding ways into Voids and other parts of the Fade without much difficulty. It had been a bit of a struggle to do this compared to the almost effortless apotheosis, though it was far easier than normal magic such as casting fire or throwing out lightning. That was tough for her, but magic poked and prodded her in the right direction.

 

Solas _had_ warned she would likely have next to no magical control in the waking world.

 

Seemed about right.

 

Naturally she was unhappy to not be as adept at magic as her brother, but he did have a decade’s worth of tutoring head start on her. Plus, his power from Sylaise lent to it and Andruil’s did not. And even _then_ she had to be in the Fade for it to take full and yet rather ineffectual effect… bah. She would learn. Slowly, it seemed, but still was determined to make progress. They already planned for her to come back into the crossroads to turn elves they rescued into Elvhen during times she could be free from the constraint that was Heir duties. At any rate, forget any showy forms of magic, Ivy was quite content to work on Void finding, barriers for protection and some ‘healing’ and ‘hastening’.

 

Emphasis on quotations marks there.

 

She shook those thoughts from her head. A touch to the mirror and it lit up in an instant and she innately knew she could have this Eluvian wherever she wanted it in the Crossroads now. “Huh. Ready?"

 

The general yes’s were her reply.

 

A nod and she went through, the group following and finding themselves in the Crossroads. It was greatly damaged in here, long ruined and in need of repair. There was a beauty about it, in the way ruins held tales and memories of what once was, but she saw it made Solas’s lips purse and wondered how many memories here were his.

 

“It will be maintained when we can afford to put energy to it after the fall,” Solas determined to them, with the three following his word in this. “Come. Mythal’s temple is this way.” He wasn’t soon about to forget the way there.

 

Moments later, Solas powered up the Eluvian with the Keystone, making Ivy’s lips twitch in amusement.

 

Cole looked at her. “ _I knew he had it, the cheeky, bloody-_ ” His mouth was blocked by Ivy’s hand. A muffled, “Okay,” came through her fingers before they were taken away.

 

Solas smirked at her, eyes twinkling knowingly as the light of the Eluvian hit his features. “You had complete control of Halamshiral, didn’t you?”

 

“Well, I didn’t let much escape my knowledge. St. Clements gets everywhere and they seemed to have taken on their job _enthusiastically_ without my input to be so. Must be the feeling of successfully outwitting the ones in control for so many decades before them. I’m not complaining. Works out great for us!”

 

The elf snorted and then drawled out, amused, “I’m sure you aren’t.”

 

Stroud chuckled at that. “And I suppose you charmed the help as well like you used to do?”

 

“There is nothing wrong with being raised with manners,” Ivy stated with a scoff, giving him a look and then breaking out into a grin as he barked a laugh. “ _Maybe_ a little charm was incorporated, too. Maybe. Who doesn’t like a nice grin?”

 

“Shall we?” Solas offered with a smile of enjoyment to the bantering duo and Cole and at the confirmation, he led the way into the Temple of Mythal, where a young Sentinel Leader was standing with his group, stern and narrow eyed at who could be coming through. It inwardly made him smirk when the Elvhen realised who walked his way and was further amused when bewilderment came at the sight of the next three, clearly human and yet tinted with the feel of immortals on them, ears twitching up under the hood in fascinated inquisitiveness. The same expression of confusion or intrigue were on the others and they all quickly stood to attention when he tucked his hands behind him, knuckles of his fist joining together, body straightening and projecting leadership. “We thank you for letting us into your Temple as guests.”

 

Abelas wanted to narrow his eyes at the presumptuous God but did and said nothing to that. “You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. We offer our hospitality freely to you and your guests, Fen’Harel.”

 

“We receive it well. May I present Cole, Spirit of Compassion, Stroud, General of Orlais and Ivy, the one who out-hunted Andruil.”

 

That had the attention. “She is dead?” The words were almost whispered, breath bated in that moment, expectation hanging in the air.

 

“Dead. As is Sylaise.”

 

That sent the elves swiftly talking in Elvhen, wonder and extreme relief in their tone.

 

Ivy idly rubbed at her throat, feeling a little light head and looked to Stroud, whose hand was to his chest and nodding at her in agreement to her silent question. Not just her who thought this world was as dry as the Approach. Honestly, it only confirmed that the Fade was too humid and over-saturated, and the Waking world was just too dry to them, the Goldilocks effect taking root in them. What they were doing was right. They just needed to see that as many people would survive the fallout as possible. The Scot gazed around the place in interest, connecting with Abelas’s and she couldn’t resist winking at him, eyes smiling and then looking around again as her hand dropped from her throat and he watched before turning away as the intense stared from Fen’Harel was felt on the side of his head.

 

Seriously, she knew the world was wrong when her throat and chest were dry in a humid _jungle_.

 

“That is one of three things we have come here today to speak of.”

 

“Let us proceed to the dining chamber,” Abelas held his hand up to show the way, and the elves behind him instantly went into formation to lead the way. Moments later, having passed a well that spoke of knowledge of bindings to her magic with Stroud also locking stares with her and nodding at that also, they proceeded into a building, in serious need of renovation and a good lick of paint at the very least, the elf noted the dark look that flew over the woman’s face as they passed the mosaic devote to Andruil, slowing down in an almost predatory fashion with her jaw clenching before the wolf put a hand to her back, magic pulsing gently over her in a caress.

 

He saw the worry flit over the elves features and raised a hairless brow, acknowledging the pair as mates when he detected their scents awash with each other as she reached out with her own spiky one. There was great adoration in the flair of his magical protection he likely had constantly kept up and hadn’t dropped in their presence, in the way he kept close to her side and watched her carefully and smiled warmly at her intrigue of the area around her.

 

That was a man in love.

 

He looked away quickly before he could be detected.

 

_Is that so, Fen’Harel? Has she so changed you? I cannot believe it. You are as wily as the wolves you so admire and love._

 

And her magic… it was uncontrolled. A side effect of fighting a Goddess? It would have taken all one could even if she had an army behind her, which he presumed she must do against the bloodthirsty Huntress.

 

Suicide not to.

 

As much as this pairing was something to stay aware of and to keep track of, it was the spirit that had his personal interest.

 

Turning into a living being… Was this a sign the world was soon to be changing for the better?

 

Seated around a round table, making Ivy smile at the legend of King Arthur dancing in her head, Solas was the one to begin. “Again, thank you for your hospitality, and lending us your ears. Currently, a darkspawn Tevinter by the name of Corypheus has want of your Well and comes with an army to take it.” The elves were disciplined not to make any noise, even though they all stiffened and grew alert. “However, another army comes to stop him gaining power, one called an Inquisition that myself and my companions are temporarily part of, as well as a large force from the land of Orlais, which my mate Ivy is heir to the throne of. We believe the Inquisition is likely to think that taking the Well’s power will stop him from destroying your Temple after being finagled out of a grasping of power.”

 

“I see. This is grave news.” Abelas thought for a moment, having known of the reports of forces incoming for a few days now. “Our duty is to protect the Well to the death. What do you suggest?”

 

“It depends on what you want. My power is enough that I can reposition the Well to another plane in the Crossroads. That would keep you to your duty. I have ways of siphoning the power into another form where you could carry it with you if you wish to remain in this plane. I could also unlock you from your duty, as I had myself of my duty to Mythal, as well. However, I must bid you choose fast. The enemy approaches, and my power is not yet fully restored to fend off all that is him.” While a good chunk of his magic had come back, the Fade had expanded his power even further for what they must do and it was harder to control. He had enough capability for a transportation spell however, and in a small amount of time (perhaps some weeks) his full power would come back, and grander than ever.

 

The Sentinel Leader looked to his people. He decided great upheaval was not best for them. “Perhaps for now we can simply have the Well transported to another plane? After we may change our mind on both the form of our duty and if we wish to carry it on, but in this point in time I would rather rest easy knowing an enemy will not gain hold of power which belongs to the Elvhen.”

 

“Of course. The next thing is that yes, Andruil truly is dead. As is Sylaise. Ivy has killed her in the Fade and taken in her power. Sylaise was taken over by her brother, Marcus. They were taken by the siblings to have their bodies to escape their prisons, but their power was diminished in the case of Sylaise, as she was nothing more than a shell of herself, and Andruil was too mentally unstable to capture Ivy.”

 

“They are both gone?” Abelas repeated, almost harshly and turned to Ivy.

 

“She kidnapped me from the Crossroads and took me to her grove.”

 

“That is what we felt, then?” The Sentinel asked and got a curious look from her, open and earnest, making him wonder at her being Fen’Harel’s choice for a short moment. “We try to maintain some patrols in the area around the Eluvian on the side of the Crossroads. We felt a great power, an echo from long ago. We felt the huntress. We feared what may be.”

 

Ivy felt an inner sense of anger at her, magic lowly rumbling her displeasure for all Elvhen to hear, unpractised in control. “That was her, yes.” A gentle caress of Solas’s magic and she let it go. “And we fought, and I won, taking in her magic and becoming immortal. Which leads onto our next point.” She turned to Solas, but he simply nodded at her and she took the hint. “We’re going to be breaking the Veil properly, meshing the worlds back together, and taking out the rest of the Evanuris. Want to join in on that?”

 

Abelas blinked slowly at the cavalier question, so far from the Andruil he knew, the one that delighting in lording her excellence over others.

 

And he smiled.

 

“To rebuild to what we formally had? No slavery?” He questioned and she nodded, eyes bright with nothing of the cruelty so beholden to her predecessor, magic powerful but refreshing without any egregiously malignant intentions. “Yes. We will join in on that.” Her grin widened at him. “Let us bring our home back. Let us move the Well.”

 

Solas had thought it was going to be difficult to get them on board.

 

He looked at his mate, adoration in his gaze, and letting the Sentinels see it. If it helped them believe in their cause, that he was wound around her finger (Which he may or may not admit to. Ever.) and that he believed in her, then all was good. And if they would not choose to try for her by seeing she was the Dread Wolf’s (a title he rather laughed at now for once being so proud of it, happy to just be _Solas_ of _Solas and Ivy_ ) then all the better.

 

“Shall we move the Well now?” He asked, getting up.

 

Abelas followed after Ivy rose and their two companions also got up. “Let’s.”

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

The Sentinel Leader bowed to them. “I shall do as you ask.”

 

Pleased, the four left the Temple, Eluvian removed from its’ original place to a lower chamber behind a mosaic and under an enchantment. The group had agreed to help make homes for the elves that would soon be mass migrating to the Crossroads as they communicated with Solas’s agents that would bring people in in small groups at a time. They’d been working for the last day on where to put the people, which Eluvian’s were best to go into with the best resources, the Sentinels being very useful for that as this was their area and had maintained as much as they could. The next stage was safely in the hands of the Sentinels and though Solas was unsure of trusting them with the beginnings of the People, he didn’t have much choice if he wanted to continue to have his little groups secrets kept that way in the face of their other life in the Inquisition and Orlais.

 

So he went on with it, keeping his troubles in his mind as they waded through the overgrowth of jungle flora, leading the way.

 

Having not seen parrots in so long, Ivy watched them birds up above as Stroud talked to Solas about what he wanted him to do when they got there to cover for him.

 

“They like it here,” Cole came up to her side, speaking softly, “There are lots of nice trees.”

 

“Yeah?” She asked quietly, smiling a little.

 

“You’ll make sure there are lots more for them, won’t you?”

 

“Yes. People having a safe home is the plan.”

 

The Compassion spirit smiled, pleased. He then raised his hand and a parrot landed on his arm, making Ivy’s eyes widen in delight. “Birds like me. Do you want to pet him?”

 

“I’d _love_ to. I’ve never been able to stroke a parrot. Where?”

 

“He likes to the left of his beak, under his eye. He has an itch there.”

 

Smiling widely and unable to help but giggle a little, she did so, wondering at the bright red under his eyes that almost glistened in the light hitting him. The parrot cawed a little but pushed into his head into her scratching finger. The bright blue and mauve bird shuffled over and she dropped her jaw in awe as he glided to her armoured forearm, and took in those incredible eyebrows and mohawk. “He’s so pretty,” She breathed and scratched his cheek again. “Cole.”

 

“Andruil had hawks, but the parrots like you better.”

 

Stroud looked around with a, “My Lady-? Ah.” He chuckled at her utterly delighted face, making Solas also look back. “They are friendly?”

 

“It seems Ivy had found her familiar. Mine is the wolf, of course, as Andruil was the hawks and Ghilan’nain the halla. Powerful Elvhen always have a familiar. I am not surprised it is so bright an animal - and quite a characterful one too,” He added on as the parrot began bopping its head and wings.

 

“Oh haha, Solas.” She scoffed at him, head cocked to the side, making him smirk back at her and he laughed lowly when the parrot copied her head tilt. She snickered at the bird that was on her side and put the feathered boy onto her shoulder as she went up to them, seamlessly fitting between them. Her hand idly rose up to cup his elbow and instantly he lifted his forearm to keep her hand near as she asked, clearly in thought, “I wonder what Marcus’s is? Maybe a cicada. He really likes them.”

 

“You would know best, Your Highness.”

 

Ivy grinned wickedly. “From a sibling point of view, I hope it’s a nug.”

 

Stroud barked a laugh as Solas chuckled and Cole piped up, “I like nugs!”

 

She laughed at that, until the four of them snapped their heads around at the feel of-

 

“Is that red lyrium?” The Chevalier questioned swiftly, sword drawn as he and Ivy stepped forward and the bird flew off after a rough and inexperienced coaxing of her magic.

 

“Yes,” said Solas, falling into position.

 

The Scot narrowed her eyes and muttered, “It makes my skin crawl,” as a trio of Red Templars stumbled upon them.

 

Solas instantly froze them, with the other three taking a Templar each and stabbing them into pieces, and settled a barrier on Ivy first as more came out. The fighting truly began then, with the other three dancing around him to keep him safe as he put barriers over them and froze enemies when he could, faces determined and eyes focused. They truly were a good shock troops unit, mowing down their opponents easily. With Ivy used to Chevalier fighting from Frederic of Serault, able to dance around Stroud’s motions with ease, and Jean-Marc protecting his Orlesian Heir and Cole able to read all their minds to get out of the way or best positioning his blades where they wanted to go, the next few dozen Templars streaming in group by group were taken down easily.

 

It surprised Solas to have such synchronized attacks when they had never fought with each other before, but he couldn’t think of why it wouldn’t.

 

A moment of quiet ensued as they waited for the next lot to attack, but forty Red Templars were down and out in what felt like mere minutes.

 

“Look at us go,” Ivy approved heartily, grinning at them before sighing at the mass amounts of bodies.

 

“Yes. Not all of them wanted to be on his side. Some of them were made to take the red lyrium or be killed.” The spirit came over, putting hands on her shoulders from behind. “They were glad to be free from it. _A quick death is a mercy._ ”

 

That made her sigh as the senseless loss of life, but then she blinked. “Quick? Solas, do you know the haste spell? I think I’d like to learn that and basic barriers, first.”

 

“Of course.” He nodded, running a hand down the fur of his pelt as he came up to her. “Why those two, vhenan?”

 

She took out a handkerchief and cleaned her blade. “I don’t want to depend on elements or glyphs when I already have a honed style. That can come later. Hasten myself up and become harder to touch with barriers to buff up. Then I’ll add things like elements or glyph traps.”

 

“Enhance the style rather than learn something new? Yes. An excellent style that would be.” Stroud hummed in agreement. “That makes sense. I hear that you have a mage in necromancy? I think I would like to learn some fear spells and haste for mine. That would terrorize the enemy into backing off into your blades, Your Excellency.” That and he wanted to give the couple some time together. He could tell Solas wished for time alone with her to teach, wanting to cultivate her magic himself in the ways of ancient elves that he knew.

 

Ivy perked up at that. “Oh, that sounds _good_. Fear spells to scare the enemy into the perfect spot or leave them defenceless. But I think barriers for me mainly,” She then added on thoughtfully, putting her long daggers away. “Shall we continue?”

 

Perhaps an hour later after some fights they finally got to scouts who instantly guided them to the main camp. A look and Ivy took lead of them, making sure the holes in her outfit were obvious, still stained and speckled with darkened blood. The Chevaliers instantly stood up from whatever they were doing and bowed deeply, causing the camp to look on at what was happening and for whispers to instantly pass along like a forest fire. To the middle of the camp was the Empress and Josephine, but in an instant, a shriek from behind them had the two women looking around as a massive Lealos jumped over them and charged at the incoming group, skidding to a halt in front of the four.

 

“Lealos!”

 

He towered above her now and ducked his head to screech in her face, pained and angry. He stomped, screeched, turned around as if he didn’t know what to do with himself and then simply collapsed to the ground and thrust his head into her stomach and she clutched him to her as he screeched again, mournful. Odd wailing sounds she’d never heard made her fall to his side and murmur words of love and how she’d been missing him as she soothingly rubbed his neck and rocked him.

 

Solas watched silently, had never seen anything quite like it in all his life.

 

This animal had been _grieving_ for her.

 

He wondered if Lealos had felt the connection they clearly held between them break with her death, for it was now resurrecting itself as the continued hold.

 

“You’re alive!” Lana came out and rushed over as she called this out, grasping the Heir and her mount to her. “We thought the worst! Your clothes…!” Lana gasped as she took in the holes.

 

Marcus was there as well, joining in. “I’m glad to see you in the waking world, sister.”

 

“We’re here now, and ready to fight. Let’s go to the tent.” Ivy paused and looked down at her boy with pain in her eyes. “Well, soon. My Lealos needs me.”

  

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super busy these days! Do forgive the space between, but I've come upon a bit of an authors block, as well as being extraordinarily overworked with uni and researching Masters in another country and all that entails with visas and finding out about transport, living costs, potential future in permanent living in another country and beginning to learn its' language, etc. This writing comes last, considering I don't get paid for it, ha.
> 
> Hope you like!


	40. Tenderhooks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, 10K plus hits... that's amazing. I didn't think my DAI fic would get that, considering Inquisition is already three and a half years old.
> 
> Seriously, thank you.
> 
> Any comments are my payment, so anything you can offer is always gratefully taken!!

** Chapter 40 **

 

 

Ivy ran a hand down her clothing, feeling odd in the Heir uniform. It was a replica of what Gaspard wore at the Wintersend Ball, if a female and dragon weave replica of it, so to have it on her now was… discomforting. It wasn’t like it wasn’t perfectly fitting, or that it was too much on the armour front, though her preference was to be lighter and not get hit as dragons one-shot KO’ed anyone, but that it was his was… She grunted, unhappy. It felt bad to his memory. Then she banished the thought, needing to focus, doing what she could to ignore the lingering feelings of defacing him after his death. She looked at the mirror and noted the stress on her face. She narrowed her eyes at that and then put a grin on her face, tweaking it until it looked genuine.

 

There.

 

Should work.

 

She faked a concerned look, a curious one and then an amused one, making sure they all looked like something she’d do and felt real. Footsteps came up to the tent and she put on a neutral face.

 

“Your Highness?”

 

“Enter,” She called out and a Chevalier came in, bowing lowly and she nodded back, Lealos snorting from next to her, not leaving her side. “Report.”

 

“Her Majesty requests your presence immediately, Your Highness.”

 

Ah.

 

This.

 

Solas.

 

They’d not been discreet since they came back.

 

“Thank you.” She nodded, grasping her weapons and putting them on, straightening the Heir necklace and leaving, with the Chevalier bowing her out and in no time she and Lealos were in the Empress’s tent. Her partner arrived at the same time she did and heat sizzled between them like it always does, and Ivy felt her eyes lid for a moment before her face changed into a charming grin that turned to curiosity before Celene as she turned to the woman, Solas having held the tent flap open for her and her protective mount, all of this an act for her. “Your Majesty?”

 

“Ah, my dear Ivy. I am pleased to see you. As am I you, Lealos.” The Empress gave a chuckle the beasts’ way.

 

Lealos chuffed at her.

 

“And the one called Solas.” Celene looked at them, eyes piercing with a friendly smile on her face.

 

“Empress Celene.” Solas gave only a short bow, not one of hers but respectful enough.

 

“I must thank you, for saving my heir. Is there anything I can gift you?”

 

Solas smiled but ducked his head. “There is nothing you can gift me that I would want, Empress Celene. It was a pleasure to care for Ivy.”

 

“That is very gallant of you, a fresh breeze of air on a humid day. Not many would decline the sweet water of a gift from an Empress.”

 

“I have all that I need. Anything else is but a luxury.”

 

Celene cocked her head, a little unsure how to proceed with that. “There is nothing, even a temporary fancy?”

 

“No, Your Majesty.”

 

Ivy frowned a little. “Celene…”

 

Her eyes flickered to her Heir before turning back to the elf, who was looking a little awkward now, flitting sparing glances at Ivy when she wasn’t looking. “Something permanent?” She inquired further, unwilling to let this go, because this was her Heir of Orlais, and she was rightly possessive of one of the best of her people. She saw the hesitation. “There is. I wonder, there have been rumours of you, Solas.” She thought of Vivienne, of the apparent attraction the male had to their Heir. She could believe it now, seeing Ivy shift onto her hip closest to the man, who’d kept his attention on the hunter in little ways even as he replied politely to the Empress. Tilted to her, foot pointed her way, eyes flickering her way.

 

“There always are, Empress.”

 

She chuckled. “Indeed so. This has been going on for a while, I take it, Your Highness?”

 

“Your Majesty?” Ivy questioned, wondering.

 

“The two of you.” Celene elucidated. “You have affection to each other.”

 

There was a quiet in the tent.

 

Ivy pretended to look like she didn’t know what to say, faking being gobsmacked as she stared at the Empress.

 

“You could never hide your shock,” Celene laughed out lowly as the woman give a sheepish grin like she’d done many a time before for Celene. “And your Lealos actually likes this one, he who usually glares off all male attention that challenges yours on his. So, how long?”

 

The dragon hunter gave a rueful grin the harts’ way, exasperated fondness in her eyes. “Since Haven, Your Majesty.”

 

“You would hide this from me, Ivy?”

 

Ivy gave a bow. “It was not meant to be hidden, Celene. We are not together. Naturally, I put duty first and… Stopped us. Not that it stopped feelings of course, but they were controlled, as it should be.”

 

Solas felt his shoulders stiffen, reminding him of his own duty he’d put first while still feeling so deeply.

 

Truly, they were a pair.

 

“You would give that up, for Orlais?”

 

The Scot felt her eyes shutter at that. “I gave up my life to dragons, to find my brother. Giving up love was just another head to the block for me. Duty first. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

 

“How will you treat our people, when I give the throne up to you?”

 

Ivy paused at that, knowing both would be curious. “There was a sentence I remember my father saying. You can tell the measure of a ruler by how they treat their subjects. I value kindness, Celene, though I know being leader of Orlais would not work with that value. Being a type of Ambassador compared to an Empress is vastly different.”

 

“You would give that kindness up?”

 

“No. My values would separate when I don different mantles.”

 

“Do tell.”

 

“Ivy Montgomery is the one who loves adventure and people of all kinds and their history and laughing in a tavern with friends and sparring with family. The dragon hunter is the leader, the one that protects her group, keeps both people and dragons alive to keep balance and order. Empress Ivy would be Orlais, the economy, the people, the future.”

 

Celene asked softly, pleased, “And of Ivy the lover?”

 

“Playfulness, teasing and touches,” Her eyes drifted to Solas. “Of hopes and dreams, and the want of a faithful mate.”

 

He looked back, gentle, warm, and the lightest of smiles.

 

“And the patter of little feet?”

 

Ivy’s eyes snapped back to Celene, this now earnest. “Is it that obvious, Celene?”

 

The ruling woman came over to her and clasped her cheeks. “No. But I know you, my Heir. My cousin came after this. You will have to deal with the dislike of a human Empress with an elf Empress Consort, but I have no doubt your grin could charm them over. I give my blessing, and how could I not? My own greatest and truest love was an elf,” Celene said with a sigh and then turned to Solas going over to him as Ivy pursed her lips at her back at that last sentence. Fat load of good that had done Briala, who’d been taken to the inside of the Eluvian network with the Sentinels and now working with them as Spymaster in the court. She was eager to help her people in any way. “Ivy will be Orlais, looking after it. As Empress Consort, you will need to look after her alone. There will be no say in the country from you, as you will be her loyal only. The only one she can turn to.”

 

Solas truthfully replied, “I have no wish of Orlais. It has only been Ivy.”

 

“I am pleased. We shall have you as our next rulers.”

 

Ivy and Solas bowed, hearing the dismissal, and left. His magic rumbled over her, and she smiled, her own inexperienced one trying its best to copy though without much finesse. He chuckled after she threw him a grumpy look, guiding hers and rejoicing in Ivy easily giving her submission over, curious. He showed her the way and she mimicked well, feeling his magic effortlessly follow hers as if they were dancing with himself behind her and leading the way. In her quarters and feeling the peculiar sense of a barrier come up as his magic warped around them in a protective fashion she took note of for her own attempts later, she sighed, stretching her neck out and remarking, “Now to await the assassins coming after your head.”

 

“Of that, we have no doubt. It will be fine. My magic is back and greater than it ever has been.” His hand skimmed her back and he relished in the sleepy grin she gave him as she stretched up on tip toes. He couldn’t resist the urge to slip arms around her bared middle, finger tracing over the muscles there and pulling her to him. He smiled into the back of her hair when she lifted a hand of his and placed a soft kiss in the middle of his palm, entwining her fingers with his from behind. When he heard the words ‘Ar lath ma’ he happily sighed into her neck as warmth flooded him at the feeling of being loved and his smile only widened when she turned and nuzzled into his neck and kissed up his neck and jaw, tip toeing to get there with arms around his neck, hip to hip with him.

 

Adoration filled him and stayed there.

 

“Just make sure you barrier our bed each night, Solas, and teach me too so I could double it up.”

 

“Our bed?” He teased her, making her huff up at him as she flattened her feet.

 

She then played it off with a shrug he didn’t believe in at all. “Well, just mine, do what you want with yours, but I do expect not to be alone in mine anymore.” There was a pang of loneliness in her tone she didn’t realise was there but he did.

 

He ran a soothing hand over her hair. “Of course, vhenan.”

 

She raised a brow. “Vhenan?”

 

“Place of my heart.”

 

“Finally told me, hm?” She teased, eyes twinkling up at him.

 

“You knew?”

 

“I had to find out eventually, and you’d been calling me that for how long? It’s not as though I don’t have other Elvhen speaking accomplices, you know.”

 

He chuckled. “You are resourceful.”

 

“That is the least of what I’ve become, Solas.” Her hands skimmed down his back, enjoying what she found and clasping his behind happily, ignoring his knowing smile and chuckle to simply delight in running hands over a wonderful body and arse. Seriously, a nice round buttock within each hand and she couldn’t help but clench cheekily and then dip down to the tops of his thighs. The male body was a delight. Perhaps not as pretty or picturesque as the female body, but still lovely to behold in her opinion. “I will look after you as well. You know that, right?” She asked and at his small smile, she felt he didn’t. In the slightest. “You don’t, do you?” She asked, bewildered, putting her hands to his sides.

 

“Ivy,” He began, but didn’t continue, because she could hear he didn’t and he would not lie to her.

 

“You actually don’t. I…” She looked away, parting from him, gobsmacked and turning away and pacing away from him. “How can you not know? You don’t believe my depth of feeling is because I am now an immortal _human?_ ”

 

He paused perhaps a split second too long, because she scoffed and turned to the side as if someone was there to agree with her. “Elvhen.”

 

“Immortal human. There is a difference. Don’t forget that, Solas. I will not retract what I am.”

 

“I do not expect you to, vhenan.”

 

“Immortal human, and always will be,” She repeated, eyes unashamed and chin up.

 

He touched her shoulder, holding tight to make sure he had her attention as his eyes bored into hers so she knew his seriousness. “I won’t forget it. You are Ivy Montgomery, a human, given longer life. I did not fall in love with one of my own.” There was a soft smile lilting his lips up. “I am now glad not to have.”

 

“Good, because that was Andruil and frankly I detest the thought of you falling for me because I have her-” She stopped herself as horror came over her at the thought of her only being loved because she could be considered Andruil’s descendent.

 

Solas caught her thought, grasping her chin while his other hand slipped around her waist and swore, “ ** _Never._** ” He saw her worry. “You overcame her disgusting hold on you, and never once did I know you were anything but you, that it was your magic in you. It never felt like hers. It was beyond a terrifying surprise to have seen her try for you in the grove of hers. It is merely her energy that created your own core, but her energy was someone else’s before, an emotion given new life, just like it is yours now, like you have been given new life. I do not, and never have, seen her as you or you as her, as if you are interchangeable.”

 

Ivy nodded slowly. “So then, yes, how could you ever think I was her… I’m sorry. I can’t help but think it now,” She admitted, feeling shamed.

 

He hated her looking like this. “Then it is a failing on me.”

 

Her eyes widened, blurting out as she stepped away from him, “Solas, _no_ , I-”

 

“It is. You are not her. I never once did think you her when I knew you were Elvhen, back when I told you of Skyhold. Of my personal fortress. Please know this,” He requested desperately, knowing how debilitating it could be to their relationship. He sighed out when she slowly nodded and gave him a smile, if quivering and unsure. “I love _you._ We will make our world our own.”

 

“I know you already agreed but… Even with my people that you can’t stand? Are you sure?”

 

Solas would give her all the reassurances she needed. “Yes. As long as no hate between elf and others remains, then saving as many people is the only acceptable choice.”

 

The hunter smiled up at the wolf. “Of course, ma’fen. That is not something allowed to remain. If we do not care about ear-shape… which admittedly, I am unsure about when it comes to you.”

 

Solas held his hand out and she took it without hesitation. “You take my hand, even though I have favour to elf kind?”

 

“You, my dearest crabby wolf,” She grinned at his unimpressed raise of the eyebrows, “Have always preferred your own kind and I’ve known that for a long time.” She watched his eyes flicker guiltily, and went on softly, reassuringly, “But you have always given a hand to all in need without demeaning others for what they cannot help being born as. It’s why I looked past it. Remember I come from a human only world. I have no understanding of putting one being of people before another. We had racism in form of colour of skin, but it doesn’t quite have the sheer outward disregard and hate of differences between races here. At least not in my time, unless I’m unbelievably ignorant to some culture in another country. Which I probably am. Either way, I don’t quite understand it and want to fight it, and frankly we need more of me.”

 

The mage chuckled at her blunt words, relief at her acceptance of him despite his failings flushing through him. “We do. But I am glad to have you.” He put an arm around her, drawing her close gently.

 

She smirked a little at his hand of flirtation and leant on him, glad to be over this. “Good.”

 

“Ar lath ma.”

 

“Wo ai ni,” She replied with a grin, kissing the corner of his lips and humming when he locked lips with her at the chance he could. But she mumbled into the kiss and then begin to pepper his pleased face with kisses, “I love you. Loveyou _loveyouloveyouloveyou._ ” She grinned foolishly as he melted into the affection so easily and wantonly as they then shared a hug. She couldn’t help it up as she leaned up and pressed a kiss between them that was so much more than before. They kissed, his lips locking with hers and shuddering as she pushed into him, grasping him to her, smushing her chest against his. She parted lowly, looking up at him, “We’re on the same side? We look after each other?”

 

“Yes,” He pushed her down onto the cover of her cot, watching as she bounced and he slumped next to her, curling around her. “We are and we will.”

 

“I believe in you, even as young as I am compared to you,” She said, a little unsure of the future. “And the thought of living so long is… Well, it’s a little scary.”

 

“I will make sure you’ll be fine.”

 

Ivy nodded, uncertain but going with it. “Good.”

 

Solas would not let her come to harm as best he could and dragging her closer he replied, “Always, vhenan. Remember that.”

 

* * *

 

  

* * *

 

Ivy pulled her jian out of the enemy, blocking the next and diverting the claymore away by shoving herself against it with her own blade and followed the line of his armour to guide it to the space in between armour and helmet, grimacing at the screech of the red crystals growing from him. One bad thing about magic was hearing this dreadful noise.

 

She jumped out the way of a blast of red coming her way, only for Cullen to defend her back. “Lovely weather, Commander.”

 

An axeman fell to his sword. “For one not in heavier armour, perhaps.”

 

“Yes,” She grunted as she deflected a parry and stab true into the rogue with her other jian. “I’m rather not used to such clanky crap- ahem, I mean I’m not used to such _finery_ on the battlefield.”

 

A laugh left him as they defended for the next moment and nodded at Dorian when he sent Horror after the other red templars around them and that gave them the chance to end their misery.

 

A moment passed.

 

Dorian couldn’t help but ask, “Is it true you’re being courted by our resident hobo? And that you _accepted_ it?”

 

Snorting, Ivy nodded, knowing the nickname would likely never be going away and would leave him and Solas to hash that out. Inwardly though, she rather hoped it’d be a name that stuck, whatever Dorian thought of Solas after finding out his old title. She hoped it would show Solas they were still people, before and after the change into immortals. She could say it all she wanted, as could Marcus, but Solas needed to see it from others as well. She felt he was still in a little denial that needed clearing up. “It is.”

 

“Well, well!” Dorian brightened up. “Seems like you can finally get him in something less like a lost woodsman and more like a proper Empress Consort! Oh, I can’t wait to have him dolled up! I’ve been wanting to do something to that elf for months on end by now.”

 

It truly had been coming up to years since this began, hadn’t it? She couldn’t believe how much time had gone by. “Perhaps he’d oblige?”

 

“Really?”

 

“No.”

 

“Raising a man’s hopes and dashing them! I do hope you keep Solas on tenderhooks as well.”

 

“Tenderhooks? I much prefer to tie him up, actually,” Ivy quipped back with a grin.

 

Dorian barked a laugh at that.

 

Just in time for Solas to come over and remark, “It’s rather the other way around,” as he smoothly sent a veil fist through several upcoming red templars. The group looked around them, having been pushing to the middle to separate the army into smaller parts as different divisions, all led by her Elite’s that Arcturus had been left in charge of, came in from the sides and battered them down. Nothing was coming, and there was only the sight of a fought battlefield riddles with corpses and holes in the ground and burns in the scenery around them.

 

“I hear no denial from my darling sister!”

 

“We take turns,” She theatre whispered, getting approval from the necromancer by gleeful chuckle and a familial arm around a shoulder as he leaned on her.

 

Cullen chuckled as Solas threw her a little smirk, but the blond soon took charge after he obtained a note from a crow of Leliana’s. “Back to camp. We are finished with this battle. Corypheus left them to die.”

 

“And where would our favourite Te-”

 

Dorian cleared his throat pointedly.

 

“- _ancient_ Tevinter have swanned off to?”

 

The Commander shook his head once. “It says no more.”

 

Solas murmured, “No matter.” He turned his staff and magicked off the blood and gore with care, nose slightly twisting at the smell. “We should move the army back to base as fast as possible. He does not have anything here to fight for, with no army of demons or Red Templars, and we have left the Inquisition Headquarters near on empty. It is a tempting target.” That, and he didn’t want to see his favourite building in the world crumble from this upstart.

 

“Indeed so,” Cullen said, worried for his home.

 

Especially as his child was there.

  

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

What they didn’t know yet was that Arthur had gone missing.

 

And The Iron Bull and his Chargers were nowhere to be found.

 

* * *

  

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next is the finale of DAI... and onto it's after math.......


	41. Hand Of Fate

 

 

 

** Chapter Forty-One **

 

 

 

The small of group of them were waylaid by Lana’s thoughts about the Temple and why they’d gotten nothing there.

 

“There is, perhaps, another place of Mythal we may go to, for getting the power the Well could have given us,” Morrigan spoke up in distaste.

 

Ivy cocked her head at Lana’s little bitter smile, a little alarmed as the main forces were sent onwards.

 

What the hell did Lana know?

 

They’d come to a large circular area that had Solas silently exhaling from his nose and Ivy flicking her eyes to him curiously, only looking away when he just as quietly shook his head once. It was beautiful here, in that old way that had the very air speaking of history and magic that interspersed around peculiarly well-kept buildings. This place was certainly old yet… ah. She could feel the magic in the rocks with her own curious magic and before she could dig in too far, she felt Solas take her hand and she slowly pulled her magic back. A sheepish grin his way, a small squeeze of his hand before letting go, and she watched as Mythal was summoned by Lana and Morrigan.

 

She took in the older woman with intrigue on her features. “She looks like a dragon; that’s _so_ badass.”

 

Three snorts from her brother, brother-in-law and bond, and her lips quirked up when Mythal looked over at them, sharp gold eyes boring into her in particular with her own little smirk on her face before looking back.

 

‘ _Was that approval I saw?_ ’

 

‘ _It is indeed, da’fen’lath._ ’ Mythal purred in her head and she stiffened, automatically gripping Solas’ hand in surprise. Never had her own head been taken over. ‘ _From one dragon mother to another, welcome to my summoning circle._ ’

 

Brain blank for a moment, she mentally bowed in her head and replied, ‘ _Forgive my shock, and good afternoon, ah, Lady Mythal?_ ’

 

‘ _Mythal, my dear, also, tell your tricky man I agree with this. You shall leave Elgar’nan to me, though my two twin boys are fair game shall they try to stop us. It shall be you that has command of my dragon._ ’

 

“She agrees with the plan. Elgar’nan is hers.” She murmured under her breath to Solas, whose fingers squeezed her in answer. Then her eyes widen. ‘ _Ah, wait, no-no-no, I already have so much else, that this will cause suspicion-!_ ’

 

There was a darkly amused, ‘ _You shall have to deal with it. All agreements must come with a gift. Your gift is giving me Elgar’nan._ ’ She looked back once more. “I will have only the best look after my guardian dragon. Who better than the Dragon Godslayer?” She focused her power and flung it at Ivy without a seconds’ thought and left.

 

Ivy scowled. ‘ _I will not be bound or given this gift-_ ’ Yet her magical power, despite being grander and far more concentrated, was untrained, easily surpassed due to inexperience though it was a fight for her to get there. It enveloped her, buzzed about and then settled, her mind conjuring new information of how to dominate and control dragons coming to light in her head. Flickers of something familiar hit her, both from a world in the past and her own, melding. She couldn’t understand it and jerked back, frazzled.

 

“Ivy?” Solas asked swiftly, grasping her cheek. “Are you well?”

 

“Yes, just overwhelmed. Magic is-” A roar and her head snapped up, blade automatically in hand as she informed commandingly, “Sandy Howler. Third favourite. Stays fighting on the ground. Likes to jump. Good with kicking. Very weak to cold than other firebreathing dragons. Suggest- Oh. Guardian dragon. I-I see.” She stood up properly as the dragon hit the ground, bellowing at them. The same blue was instantly conjured to her hand and shot at to the beast before it could attack them. It mellowed, eyes flaring the misty coloured that showed its’ mind be taken over. Something in her was greatly uncomfortable about that, but considering it would have instead killed them…

 

The Draconologist went over to the dragon and raised her hand, awed at the inspiring beast nuzzling her palm and couldn’t resist hugging its' nose, gleeful at its' rumbling purr.

 

“Incredible, mamae!” Lana came over swiftly.

 

“Sorry Lana, but this is my new favourite child. You were great and all-” She laughed as the elf scoffed and crossed her arms. “People, come over and pet a dragon! We’re hitching a ride to Skyhold!”

 

“Marcus-” Dorian said, but was cut off by Marcus’ look. “We do what your ludicrous sister wants, fine, fine - but I better get a foot massage out of this!”

 

Marcus gave him a decidedly dirty grin Ivy really wished she’d not been witness to as she hopped on onto the dragon. “Er-”

 

The hunter looked at them and them grimaced. “So, everyone here but me is a trained mage, right? I’m calling dibs on behind the neck. You guys can stick yourselves to my girl.”

 

The Tevinter chortled at that. “This is what happens to old people. They get overly attached to their pets for lack of children,” Dorian smoothly said. “No wonder you ended up with the hobo. Perfect old married couple.”

 

Ivy huffed through her nose, giving him a stink-eye as the group got on and settled themselves, Solas’ arms wrapping around her waist and thighs tight to hers. She leaned around him to say, “I’m forty-three, you sod! Not exactly one foot in the grave yet.”

 

“Forty… Forty-three?!” The Tevinter asked astonished, and then turned to Marcus. “And you’re the eldest sibling?”

 

“Eldest of seven, yes. It was a madhouse when growing up. I’m forty-five, Dorian.”

 

“You’re _how bloody old?!_ ”

 

“Ha, gilf!” Ivy teased her brother with bright eyes. “What’s worse, you for being one or him for liking it?”

 

“Wh-What? What is it?! What is gilf?!”

 

Marcus and Ivy cackled as Dorian demanded he tell him what it meant _this instance_ only for the world to go streaming past them as the dragon took flight and their laughter to turn into whoops of joy, reminded of being on a rollercoaster.

 

“What is that?” Solas whispered into her ear, curious.

 

Snickering, she told him, “I’ll tell you another time. Remind me later.” 

 

* * *

 

* * *

  

“Dorian, amatus, I have a massive favour to ask of you.” Marcus murmured into his ear as they searched the castle for any sign of Arthur’s potential whereabouts.

 

“Of course. I do suppose it is something you wish kept quiet?”

 

“Yes. I must return to Orlais. However…” He brought out an item.

 

Dorian narrowed his eyes at it.

 

* * *

  

* * *

 

As the crackle of Lana’s hand went, she instantly had Ivy, Solas, Dorian by her side in alarm and called the others in the Inner Circle to arms and they all raced to the Valley of Sacred Ashes.

 

Lana had gone out in pure restrained fury to meet Corypheus head on with all others but for Solas, Dorian and Ivy. While the guardian took care of the dragon, it was the dragon hunter that was mentally guiding it as best she could, trying to fight demons at the same time. Dorian and Solas kept by her as the others spread about to keep some semblance of territorial control over the area, understanding what she was doing and doing their best to keep demons off of her. Eventually it worked, with the Red Lyrium dragon collapsing before the might of the guardian dragon of Mythal. The others quickly dashed up the stairs, the Ivy grabbed Sera and Varric, demanding they get on the dragon and aim from above.

 

Sera balked at the thought of it, by Dorian would go with them to keep them stuck down with magic and offer his protection.

 

Grimacing, Varric agreed and pulled Buttercup with him and they shot off to back up the Dalish woman.

 

The wolf pair dashed up, Solas ducking to the side that had the best sight of the battleground to it to begin shooting as Ivy went in to fight next to Cassandra, the pair tag-teaming exceptionally well with Cole, who read their minds and went in places they didn’t, and The Iron Bull, whose Ben-Hassrath skills understood their bodies well to find a good place with the dragon ladies and his Squirrelly Kid. Blackwall kept the Inquisitor protected from demons that came upon them, and Vivienne served well with predicting Corypheus’ moves and setting up glyphs that caught him by surprise and made him scream out in fury each time. Magic continued to blur out in an unceasing torrent from the mages and bolts and arrows kept the group safe from demons and pot-shotted the ancient Tevinter when they could.

 

“I will not die here!”

 

A barrier was instantly swept around her, Solas’ magic protective and fierce, perhaps just that little bit overcharged than normal but Ivy was grateful as she pulled Cassandra behind her in the ex-Evanuris’ barrier and Corypheus rent out a humungous blast of his magic, viciously pulling it from the highly reluctant orb, with the other mages doing the same to all the others.

 

A nod as the two women connected eyes, and back into the fray it was.

 

And then suddenly it was done, Ellana had the orb and was fixing the hole in the sky, the dragon touching down with the three gratefully getting down and away from the Breach, in case it did something other than close.

 

“Shit!” Varric swore as the floating rocks fell. “Run, run!”

 

Close it did, and infuriated, Ellana dropped the orb, uncaring of it and went forward to Corypheus as rocks started falling down and crashed to the ground and the others got out of there.

 

“Where is my son?!”

 

“I have not your wretched little spawn!”

 

“Then fuck off into the Fade you so wish to get into! Enjoy the demons!” The woman slammed a hand into his malignant face, sneering satisfaction rushing through her as he screamed in agony.

 

It was Dorian to come up from behind that was the one to grab Ellana and pull her away from a rock about to splatter her to nothing, but the piece slammed into a loose bit of building and dislodged it from beneath them and they were flung to the lower level, only saved by Dorian’s quick thinking and magical skills conjuring a barrier to let them land softly. Softly enough not to _break_ anything, at least. An unfortunate Dorian choked as the slight woman smacked into his stomach and winded him. “I know no one can resist me but this is quite the forceful way of showing it, Inquisitor,” He quipped, coughing and standing her up with him.

 

Lana wasn’t listening, lips pursed and eyes determined. “Let’s see if we can find the others.”

 

Ivy was looking around all the boulders, alarmed, only to snap her head to them and visceral relief light her features as she dashed over to them, hugging them tightly. “By the stars, I’m so glad you’re alive! And well!” She added, leaning back and looking her up and down and then peering at Dorian with a frown, who waved her off as he rubbed his stomach. She noted no blood or real grimace of absolute pain so she nodded. “Right. I’m going to find the others and make sure they’re alright. Stay together!” She ordered and rushed off.

 

In five minutes of looking around for the others and finding no one, she was more than sighing out as she next found Cassandra on the level down. The Scot practically jumped the woman, who clung back just as strongly, faces beaming at each other being uninjured and laughing in delight. “Dorian, the Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked urgently.

 

“Up-” She stopped her words as the two appeared on the stairs she’d come down to meet her dragon sister, with Solas standing a little bit back, ears down and shaking his head at her in pain when they connected eyes and then he turned.

 

And left.

 

Alarm slashed through her.

 

She grabbed onto the small part of him inside her, sending the feeling of question, but received a gentle push back.

 

Oh, he _isn’t_.

 

This motherfucker-

 

“He’s dead. The Breach is closed. Let’s go back to Skyhold.”

 

Later. She’d deal with it later.

 

Solas wouldn’t just abandon her.

 

Not now.

 

He _couldn’t_.

 

Varric stated, “I cannot _wait_ to write this down. Maybe a cheesy title? Does ‘ _Hand of Fate_ ’ take anyone’s fancy?”

 

Dorian locked eyes with her and nodded, a smile of satisfaction on his lips mimicked on hers.

 

* * *

 

  

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unsure if a few chappies away is the end or not, but would love to hear your thoughts!


	42. The Pack

 

** Chapter Forty-Two **

 

 

Ivy found him in the Fade, far from Skyhold it seemed, dreaming in some sort of forest.

 

Brecilian?

 

Arlathan?

 

Something _please_ close.

 

Scrubbing that from her head, she walked through the Fade for a little while, focusing on the feeling of him inside her that reflected his position on the outside, determined not to be blocked by him. He tried to deter her, but she bullheadedly brushed past that, ready to leave should he wish it after she’d seen him to know he was physically healthy, but not one second before. He seemed to give up and without any ado, padded out in his huge ruby-red six-eyed dusky black form, towering over the trees. He was a terrifying beast, fearsome with how many fangs he had, how long those claws were as he pawed the ground and made welts in the Fade, and with how his power bled from him, it chased away any spirit or demon in the vicinity with ease.

 

Ivy cocked her head at him, knowing the sight of her neck somewhat bared would do it for him.

 

His nose twitched as he ducked his cold nose to her, sniffing and then huffing out at her lack of fear on his nostrils.

 

Her lips quirked up. “Solas, you should know what magnificent beasts of your stature do to me. Honestly, the memory of some people. Does Draconologist not impress anyone anymore?”

 

The wolf barked out slightly in some sort of emotion (scoffing or amusement, she wasn’t sure) and shrunk, head reaching the height of hers, but still not humanoid. Bipedal? Was that a better word to use for an elf man, because, well, not human? She was unsure. She flung her hands up, “What the hell, mate?”

 

His ears ducked down in a show of sad negative emotions and then back further instead, some of his own frustration showing through. “Gone. It’s _gone._ ” He spoke to her, like something out of Princess Mononoke.

 

“What is, ma’lath?” She said in loud exasperation.

 

That seemed to get to him, bewildering her as he seemed to hunch in on himself. “The orb! It is broken. Our plans... are for _naught._ ” He turned away, humbled by his shame but not wanting to move from her.

 

Incredulity eclipsed her mind. “I’m sorry, whoa-whoa-whoa, back _this_ the hell up. All the time planning is not for naught. Everything is in motion now. The Sentinels are cleaning the Crossroads specific areas in them up for the to-be-Elvhen, Marcus is halfway to Val Royeaux to continue tracking the worthy people on the land and keep an eye out for our Arthur with me, and even Dorian is taking part by handling the business aspects so my brother can get more time devoted to the creating of make-up for the new shops that Dorian will oversee-”

 

Something seemed to get to him from that. “I cannot bring about anything without the orb!” He yelled, infuriated.

 

Surprise hit her features at that, shocked. Then she went quiet for a moment. “Solas, will you please meet me in Val Royeaux?”

 

“I cannot give you what you need, Ivy.”

 

“Will you please meet me in Val Royeaux? I’m currently on my way there.”

 

“I- shall try.”

 

Ivy stared at him, disappointed at him being so easily dissuaded. It was understandable, with so much having gone wrong for him in his life, having seen some of his memories of the Evanuris wars in the Fade to understand her enemies. After so many failures, people were likely to give up, and he wasn’t exempt. But it was still a blow when the leader of this movement looked so damn lost. She already knew her role would be to make the People Elvhen and look after Orlais while it still stood, but she suddenly realised a new role she had. To keep the Dread Wolf on his path by using her scent as his guide. A little smile hit her lips at the redone sentence the Dalish sent people off with, fond of her apparently worrisome canine. “What is wrong, Solas? This is more than the orb.”

 

“The orb, I… I cannot give you the home you deserve. The home of magic, of our children free and safe and able to wield magic without being stolen into Circles for it.”

 

That was the problem? It took a moment to get it, but Ivy understood now.

 

He felt he had failed her, and that was a blow to him, as equally as it was a blow that he also could not provide for the People.

 

“Solas, will you please meet me in Val Royeaux?”

 

Solas slowly turned to her, taking in her waiting, guarded expression, and eventually his snout touching her cheek. He did not wish to disappoint her more than he already had. “Of course, vhenan,” He remarked lowly, sounding like he was giving up as he shuffled up to her, still ashamed. “I will do my best not to fail you, us, again.”

 

Her tense shoulders relaxed and she hugged him around the neck, breathing him in. “You’ve not failed me a damn bit, Solas. You almost did just now, but you didn’t.”

 

The wolf sat down gently and she followed, curled up between his forearms, stroking the large head that settled onto her lap and into her stomach. He enjoyed the motions for a moment, trying to push away the self-loathing, and it worked for a time, taking in her scent and the heat of her body. He allowed himself to be weak with her as she consoled him, making sure the Fade around the hummed with her adoration for him.

 

Here, in her arms, was peace.

 

Solas would not lose that, no matter the outcome.

 

His love for her was nothing so petty. H;ed been falling so fast and so deep that any Elvhen would be shocked, but he had always been foolish of heart. Some would be shocked, yet... he was not. He hadn't realised he needed this. Needed her and her grins.

  

The rubbing of his ear had him rumbling for a few minutes, before he opened his eyes he hadn’t realised he’d closed, and turned his face to look up at her with one set of eyes. There was something in her face, something in the little warmth of her magic he kept a small part of conscious thinking of at all times. “What is it?”

 

“I wonder if I should say.”

 

He instantly snuffled into her stomach, making her laugh, but he could detect no pups of his in her. “None have taken? Surprising.”

 

She chuckled. “Not that, my wolf. You do realise I still take measures? To not do so is impractical when we’ve such a large upcoming fight on our hands-”

 

“Mythal has joined us, and she has many tricks up her sleeve. I was not the woman’s apprentice for no reason, after all. Elgar’nan is all brute force and power. Mythal is clever and swift enough to even outpace Andruil, the most battle-hardened of us all. The twins I shall deal with along with Mythal if they cannot be swayed over to us. I would wish you stay out of the fight as much as possible, for your control of magic is far too new and your role in this is to change and protect our People. Part of the reason why I wanted the orb was to be on a greater level than the others, for the remaining Evanuris do not have theirs. Ghilan’nain may also be swayed to our side. Perhaps. It is unfortunate that Andruil was the one to bring you over. Tales of their love was, if anything, understated.”

 

Ivy longed to fight, to do her bit for the world with her jians, but it was not to be despite her years of training. Not when there was those who’d lived _millennia_ more than her. It was beyond strange for her role to be in the back rather than the front lines, but she would do her job well. “I am not going to be pregnant while this is going on. Not when I was only just about able to beat Andruil in the Fade, and not when others could also attack my child.”

 

“This world changing does not have to happen immediately-”

 

“You want a child, now?”

 

The grown desire for one led him to nod. “Yes.”

 

“And when- when would we take down the Veil?”

 

He smiled. “In several decades, when our child is grown enough, when you both have control enough over your magics, when the Crossroads are built up and many of our people are safe there.”

 

“Someone’s clearly thought about this,” She teases softly.

 

He touched her cheek with a delicate clawed paw. “How could I not?”

 

“Still a no, by the way. Because then… Then I’d have attached to my child and then it could come to a decision between me living and my child or you or… I could not let you or my child die.” She ducked down and kissed his suddenly elf lips when he realised her want as she ducked down to him, humming at the warmth of his touch when she moved back, a thumb caressing the lower lip. “Revealing this all to me… You changed everything, Solas. None of my old plans have remained concerning that subject. And I’m certainly not being one of those _at least I still have a piece of him in my child_ people as their beloved goes off to fight. Your arse is coming back home to me, even if I have to drag it there.”

 

Now in his human form, Solas twisted so his back was laying on her lap as she gave him an expectant look. He reached up to her cheek with a now humanoid (or Elvhenoid??) hand and remarked impishly, “Keep this up and you’ll end up pushing the idea away entirely.”

 

She scoffed but turned to nuzzle into his hand. “Well, _someone_ gave me immortality. I’ve a long time to push it away now.”

 

“Perhaps, ma’lath,” He slowly remarked leadingly, fiddling with her breeches that he suddenly decided to magic away, “I may try to turn your mind?”

 

“You can certainly try. But I thought,” She said playfully, thigh twitching at his delicate, almost not there touch of his fingertips along her hip, “That such a thing brought demons to our doorstep?”

 

Solas’ magic flared as he leaned over her and slowly backed her down into a private bubble that was lined with bedding as his magic created tongues that licked up her body and made her groan. He brushed his lips against her as he murmured, “It is quite alright. You’ve your own _personal_ guardian beast to keep them away.”

 

“You are _so_ teaching me that next, ma’fen. Our own wolf pack by me turning into one? I like that thought.”

 

His words murmured as his magic did away with her clothing, “I’d much rather torment you and let us create our own wolf pack.”

 

She keened as his actual tongue licked up at her most intimate of places and decided to let fate play a role in if they did or not create one such thing.

 

* * *

 

* * *

  

“And of Arthur?”

 

“Nothing. It’s like he disappeared. Not even The Iron Bull and the Chargers were seen.”

 

“Then set up some of our people along the coast to Seheron, along the Straits-” The dragon hunter turned to the door of her private rooms of her Val Royeaux home with Dorian and Marcus also taking a gander while talking as it opened.

 

Solas came in, looking at them with a bit of a guarded, wary expression on his features. “Greetings.”

 

Ivy nodded her head, looking at him warmly, so happy to see him. “Mate.”

 

Heat suffused through Solas at that, glad they were fine after their argument even though they'd had sex. This was good.

 

“Well, well, our favourite hobo returns! You’ve got our dear Spymaster glowering at the ceiling anytime someone mentions your name in her presence.” Dorian chuckled with glee at that, utterly delighting in it with Ivy giggling to herself, pleased.

 

It set Solas’ heart soaring at her obvious siding.

 

“Almost thinking you weren’t going to show up,” Marcus said, unimpressed and arms crossed. “Ivy believed you’d turn up, of course, but she is a lovesick fool-”

 

She tossed him a dry, “-Who _you’re_ following, thanks-”

 

“-And she is my sister, who knows you far better, so I said nothing.”

 

“Until now,” Dorian finished, smiling at his amour.

 

“I am a very _protective_ older brother over my last remaining sibling out of seven. Rather hard to let go of the big brother attitude when i'm the eldest. Also, you _are_ one of us Montgomery’s now, Solas, so I was worried for you.”

 

That surprised Solas, who widened his eyes at the human.

 

“N’awwww,” Ivy and Dorian said at once, laughingly ducking the lazily chucked ball of snow Marcus magicked up their ways.

 

“Can it, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.”

 

Ivy snickered and Dorian sighed at yet another reference he didn’t get, demanding to understand and getting a smirk from Marcus’, knowing it’d get a rise from him.

 

Solas smiled at what was his pack as his mate watched her brother and loved-up partner argue, knowing he hated to be alone, with even the Fade confirming his inner fear before finding Ivy really wanted him. It had unbelievably centred him. Peering at his bond, with the other two bickering with her, he wondered if his fear had changed. His eyes looked around, noting the magical protections on the room once more, and more specifically, the one around a bag on the table, the only thing there. "Hm."

 

Ivy grinned at him knowingly, chuckling.

 

Dorian also looked over abruptly at her low laughter. “Ah, yes, you’ve noticed the extra defences over it. You always did have good eyes for such things,” The Tevinter remarked, walking over to it as Marcus spluttered at Dorian’s ignoring him halfway through a sentence and making Ivy laugh. “You may thank Marcus and I with candied dates and mango.”

 

“I really don’t need to know the mango thing.” Ivy sighed.

 

“I am certain I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” Her brother said, gesturing Solas to the bag.

 

She scoffed. “Yeah, _right._ ”

 

Curious, he went over to it, flicking open the satchel.

 

The power was immediately recognisable as the protections broke.

 

_His orb._

 

Sharp blue eyes turned to them in amazement, clutching the piece almost possessively. He felt so much better with it there, glad he hadn’t lost a piece of himself. His orb remaining kept him in full control of his faculties, like it had let the faculties of the other Evanuris down from losing theirs. He momentarily wondered at where Mythal’s could be, if she was still lucid enough in that human body, for however long it could have been that she wore it. "How?"

 

“You can thank these two for the idea,” Ivy nodded at the two preening men. “The ol’ classic switcharoo.”

 

“I figured we could use a power buff for our plans in some fashion,” Marcus explained a little more for him. “I asked Dorian to be the one to conjure up a lookalike from a memory of mine and to switch it at the battle. Ivy would be watched far more than Dorian and it would have been strange for her not to be near Ellana as much as possible because of their relationship where'd she'd be more watched than the others. Dorian was perfect.”

 

dorian smirked and then said, “When the stones dropped from the Breach was when I changed it around. It would be dud to anyone, and all we needed was a bit of the orbs power as a tiniest remnant of energy to fool anyone that could look it over. Which was everywhere as it is and absolutely no problem to do for someone of my exacting standards. It does bring me to ask _why_ we are now holding onto what ripped the sky open and Corypheus to go a little fussy for, why we have not let the Inquisition know, and where exactly excess funds are going to from the business? What are you planning and how can I get in on it?”

 

Solas did not like more people knowing. The more that knew, the more problems that would arise from it.

 

Marcus looked to Solas and saw the reticent look in the purse of his lips, and said practically, “We need more people to handle more things on this side. Only the Sentinels could help us from the people we have, but they’re busy in the Crossroads. Dorian... we...”

 

“Dorian, this is beyond important to us,” Ivy mentioned softly. “You know what we would use it for.”

 

His lover looked at Marcus. the Montgomery went on, “For the world to be right once again, we shall drop the barrier. You’ve felt the humidity of the Fade, do you also note the dryness of the waking world? How it could be so much better if it just… merged?”

 

The man listened to it all, knowing they weren’t saying everything, but what he’d heard was enough to send his mind spiralling. He was unsure, enamoured, fearful, and yet hopeful from all of this. “You truly believe it can happen?”

 

“It is happening, Dorian,” His lover said kindly. “But we cannot tell you anymore yet, and we cannot let you go until we have a binding oath you will not tell a soul. I am sorry, Dorian, but it must be done.”

 

“Regardless on if I agreed or not, I would say not a thing. You are my amatus, my family, and my friend.” He looked at each in turn as he said it, eyes firm. Then it dropped down to the orb. “It is much to take in but, I will… but I will help how I can. Felix taught me mathematics well, and I shall look after the finances for the make-up company." He ran a hand down his face. "A _make-up company,_ as we build up to take down the _Veil_ as safely as we can.” The man laughed, a little hysterically. His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “It can be done? We can really do this? Magic can be the norm and not the exception?”

 

“Damn right we can.” Marcus put a hand to his shoulder.

 

A stare and Dorian nodded. “Yes, well… let me take that oath then and let’s get down to business.”

 

Ivy hummed a little tune then.

 

“No Huns today, Ivy.”

 

She sighed wistfully. “I could totally do with some Mongolian lamb right now.”

 

“I swear to god you better not be, woman.”

 

“Don’t worry, no bun in the oven, not yet.”

 

Dorian turned to Solas, frustrated. “We must always align when they do this to us.”

 

A smile played on his face. “I fear you are right, lethallin.”

 

Solas had his pack.

 

He would not die alone.

 

This he would keep safe.

 

It was beyond special to him.

 

* * *

  

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any that comment, thanks a bunch! It's you that keep me going and interested in writing more!!


	43. How It's Going

 

 

** Chapter Forty-Three **

 

 

Ivy cursed in her head as she heard a servant call out to her room that Celene request her once more. She took a moment to send her magic roaring in her, letting it heat up her body and make her sweat near instantly, making it appear as if she were training. She put the communicator mirror away that she’d been talking to Marcus with and grabbed a towel to put over her shoulder and left the grand room.

 

The woman wanted her more and more often now she was the official Heir to the Orlesian Empire, such as in be in court before nobles and having to deal with them by Celene’s side, making it look like they were a power duo. The woman was ever murmuring into her ear about so-and-so’s past, potential future and the not-so-hidden present of each of them. It was useful to know, sometimes, but she really didn’t care much about who linked to who when she was so busy with the Bells and Briala and that side of things. The elf woman seemed to bounce between hating her guts for being a human turned Elvhen and in awe for her bringing about the elves freedom right underneath Celene’s nose.

 

As long as Briala kept up the still love-struck elf wallowing after Celene while being the go-between for Ivy and Solas and the elves of Orlais, Ivy was fine with it.

 

The push of elves leaving was happening, slowly but surely, in the outermost cities and villages. Right now, it could only be done few at a time, and even then it had to be more of the most talented elves, which, yes, would leave the others drowning under the thumb of humans, but sacrifices had to be made to be quite honest and utterly harsh. For this to be kept up, for the Crossroads planes to be suitable for mass amounts of people. Then they had to be met with her on the occasion, to make them immortal, to give them magical cores along with it and she could only periodically be in a place to give them over. She’d just come back from one such trip to the Western Approach under the guise of a faked dragon sighting.

 

The sight of elves shocked and angered by _her_ being the one to change them had her stomach dropping.

 

The Heir to an Empire that was in with Celene, one to burn down the biggest alienage in the whole of Thedas?

 

This _human_ to be the one that changes them?

 

Somehow linked to Fen’Harel, one of _their_ gods?

 

Yeah, she got it. It was scowled upon for her to be the one to change them. She _got it._

 

It was hard to push those thoughts away, but passing a shining mural that reflected her face helped her apply a more jovial face on, despite the emotional difficulty of doing so.

 

As Marcus had been telling of more and more compromising situations the Bell’s had been in, stretched thinner and becoming more obvious to other spy groups around the country. She regretted going to more countries so quickly now, because this really was quite the obvious way of saying they were up to something, and she could only hope no one linked it to make-up shops opening up all over the continent. They’d only have to hold the spy business up for a few more years, mass migrating people when the Crossroads plane was up and running and then bailing out on all that was left over. It pained her to do this to the world.

 

But damnit all if she wasn’t loyal to her cause.

 

She just had to recall the feel of the world in both lands to balk at stopping their plan, and just had to think about progressing their business and the Bells.

 

Dorian was an excellent, charming and a surprising natural born seller, though less of a gambler. Currently that was fine, as his knack for maths and accounting and bossing about was wonderful, but when the hard decisions hit, even he admitted he did not think he was the type, not like the other three of their little group that could and had lead well, whether it be in classes, business or armies. He was an excellent manager and right-hand man and diplomat, not so much as leader.

 

Still, their magic had grown in leaps and bounds, and Marcus and herself had taken to little tricks to get things done quicker. Reports given over could have her connect to the Fade in search of the memories, dragging it down into the paper to give it somewhere stable to settle (as they’d tried to suck it in through their magic, but that had scrambled the memories) and then with a bit of manipulation, pull it into her mind. Marcus had been the one to think of the idea and guided her through the process, but it was Ivy that decided that the fastest way of bringing that magic was to inhale it into them. It worked better than through the mouth for some reason. Another little trick was asking magic to makes things physical from memories, likes spoons or pieces of cloth to cloth them like Solas could do.

 

A caller heralded her into the private rooms of Celene, opening the door for her, and she nodded at the elf, whose eyes followed her, two little marks on part of his mask at the corner of the eyes.

 

Ah, so he knew.

 

One of Briala’s that would spy for them.

 

Funny how she was now in so deep that she could simply tell who belonged to who.

 

The luxurious room full of rococo like art and golden gilded edges was gaudy compared to the memories she had of the Crossroads and in the Fade from Solas. Celene was beautiful in an evening gown of purple and bronze with a matching mask, writing poetry at her opulent writing table, holding up a finger.

 

She made her wait for ten minutes.

 

A test of loyalty.

 

The Empress did so many of them to make sure the dragon hunter, who was so much more popular than her, understood her position below her. Always, until she decided to give the crown over at her own want and whim and wish. Even when they were together before others, Celene was that bit more forward in physical position, the first to speak, the one to make Ivy work. She wanted to make Ivy doubt. She wanted to see Ivy work to maintain her position and bow to her.

 

Ivy was quite alright with that. As long as she thought she was still getting the hunter where she wanted her, then it was her being distracted from true workings. Ivy was always the one seen as rather see-through, without motivation or goal. It was surprisingly easy to maintain as long as she continued to give people what they wanted as. Making them trust her was key. She really just hoped nothing major would suddenly come up and blind-side her.

 

Shit. It was going to, wasn’t it?

 

Or did that acknowledgement nullify that expectation?

 

“Chevalier General Stroud wishes you to oversee the new recruits being sworn in for this year,” Celene mentioned casually. “You are to go there tomorrow at noon in regalia and send on my regards.”

 

“Yes, Celene. I’ll be happy to. Is there anything else you require of me?”

 

She finally deigned to look in Ivy’s direction. “Working out?”

 

“Have to keep this body running smoothly and enemies fearing me,” She replied with a grin. “And to escape the fire of a dragon, naturally.”

 

The woman smiled at her. “Quite so. Perhaps you may teach me a few things?”

 

“Certainly. Everyone should know some self-defence.” Ivy nodded firmly, even as she cursed in her mind for more time being taken up in her already busy day. She’d barely had time to miss Solas, usually flopping into bed at the end of the day after meetings and business deals and clandestine Bell problems to take care of on top of catering to Celene as her sort-of apprentice and kind-of confidant, even though it had been over a month since she last saw him face to face. She talked to him often enough in a week by the mirror, but most of that was talking of business and it just wasn’t the same. There was strain on both sides, pauses in conversation after laughing about something where they clearly longed for the other.

 

“That is all.”

 

Bowing, Ivy left with a spring in her step and five minutes later when she got back to her rooms she leaned against the doors in frustration.

 

Seriously, _that was it?!_

 

“Stand here for ten minutes as I write my shitty poetry,” The Elvhen muttered to herself. She supposed she should be happy it was only a twenty-minute deviation from her business. “Alright.” She took out her pocket mirror and charged some magic into the glyph that represented her brother. It came with his face in the mirror a moment later. “Apologies about that. Celene made me hang around just to tell me there’s new recruits being made fully Chevaliers.”

 

“ _Royalty, who’d have ‘em?_ ”

 

She snorted in agreement. “Where were we? Ah. So Dorian is having some problems with his Nevarran shop?”

 

“ _Yes…_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

Solas watched over the class, teaching some of the more adept how to manipulate the Fade to more advanced states. It was slow going for him, now more used to the human speed rather than the laid back Elvhen one. The people were joyous at the chance to be as they should, and he was pleased to see the plans actually working, but he was impatient with their studying. These were not hard techniques, simply fiddlier and required more concentration. He did not realise he had lucked out at his first students, the Montgomery siblings being so focused due to their training. They were used to repetitive strain and meditating.

 

His People… were not.

 

The Sentinels were half here, training some of the others, while the other half were on patrol, keeping an eye on the Crossroads and the prison of the other Evanuris.

 

They’d reported to him that Ghilan’nain was not in the last place he’d left her, but that the Twins were slowly forcing their way out, desperate to survive.

 

He wished he had the wherewithal to simply grab Mythal and bring her with him to face the Twins head on, but he was not that sort of person. He needed to undermine their powers first, make the battlefield best for himself, make sure that which he cared for deeply was protected before they could unleash an undead army and an unkindness of ravens on the world, like they’d done previously in the Evanuris wars.

 

He wondered of the others. June, was he still lost in his own mind? Was Elgar’nan, the ruthless, most violent one of them all, still sleeping? Where had Ghilan’nain gone?

 

Solas rubbed his eyes, tired and simply wishing it over.

 

But it wasn’t over, and would likely be years before it was.

 

Two months. Two singular months, and he already wanted to be done with it, to take his pack off to somewhere quiet and live in peace with them, start his own family and enjoy them as they all grew. Acknowledging himself as complaining for no good reason, the Dread Wolf turned back to his students as one of them actually got it, delight on her face. She quickly began teaching the others, who suddenly understood.

 

He raised a brow. “Perhaps it best I teach you some techniques, so you may share it amongst the others?”

 

The redhead blushed, pleased as punch at the praise from the God. “I-If you think me worthy…”

 

A chuckle and he turned to the eight others. “Go and help the others build up homes, da’len, when Ulla here learns what I need to impart, then you shall learn from her. You have all done well to learn so quickly, but I must get back to rescuing more of our kin.” He got up and then swiftly followed, bowing at him. “Go now to the others that build and help give homes to our People.” They left, leaving a nervous Ulla. “Have no concern, da’len. It is of the same sort of magic.” He smiled kindly at her, hoping to soothe her worries for being alone in front of the Dread Wolf, villain of her people. Then he saw her clear her throat and blushed.

 

Ah.

 

Best to nip that at the bud.

 

“However, I must soon go to my mate and help her distract eyes more efficiently so we may grow quicker.” He saw her hope go down at the sight of his wistful smile at the thought of Ivy and inwardly nodded at her understanding. He considered it cleared up, but would make sure to keep an eye on it so it would not be another Ellana Lavellan complication. “It is important you learn quickly. I have faith you will.” That made her smile. “Now, let us begin with the refinement of earth abilities and growth of vegetation…”

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

Lana ran hands through her hair, eyes having circles under them.

 

No one could find Arthur and that mercenary group.

 

She sobbed, flinging the reports Ivy had sent her way both from that St. Clements group and from spies that belonged to the Orlesian court.

 

Vivienne nor Leliana could find anything.

 

The only thing she could think of was Solas and his thrice damned Eluvian’s if no one had seen hair nor hide of her beautiful boy. But he’d gone completely, lost to even Ivy who he’d seemed so set on wooing. The woman had been struggling to find her once lover, but as a magicless person even the ones she had found were broken, and the ones that Marcus had gone to were not working, keys to unlocking them lost to time. Morrigan had left days after the fight against Corypheus, so she was useless and none of the mages here had any clue how to reactivate an ancient art and simply didn’t have the power to even if they did know.

 

Gods, was he alive? Had the Chargers taken him? Was he being hurt? Ex-Experimented on? She burst into tears, stressed and scared.

 

Cullen found her an hour later, asleep at the desk, fingers clenched around reports and tears tracks on her face.

 

He sighed, feeling it just as much, and picked her up to carry her to bed.

 

* * *

 

* * *

  

Dorian and Marcus were doing marginally better at getting things done without losing hours of sleep six months into the plan, though the progress of removing all the elves over time was getting harder and harder to hide the intentions of St. Clements with it. That was the chance they’d taken though, knowing it would end up like this and simply doing all they could to keep up all pretences.

 

Marcus nodded the Bell of St. Martins out that would begin the order to take elven people from Trevis, Caimen Brea and Nessum, beginning on letters and reports to be written out and read up on while also creating make-up lines.

 

The lines he’d intended on making were held back for this occasion, the seasonal lines being delayed before being mass produced for first upcoming selling event the next day in the capital city of Nevarra, the Free Marches and some other cities in a nationwide event taking up most of each cities shopping district. Dorian was setting up these events in countries other than Orlais, because St. Clements would then kidnap elves from Orlais as nobles were going up to get to these once off events. Ivy would then ‘pick up’ reports from Chevaliers about the lack of elves (considering they were about to go through their hazing as new recruits looking to make their seniors proud) and would draw back in the excess troops that had been sent out on Celene’s command to outer cities of Orlais over the next week.

 

Which would give an excellent chance for the Sentinels, in all their ancient armour and tallness and powerful auras, to take away elves en-mass to the nearest Eluvian’s.

 

It had been as planned from the beginning, one of the moves. This large taking of people would makes eyes look at this and keep their own slaves and servants closer, but the mass of elves leaving would hopefully cause some elves to go to St. Clements to try and follow. Other agents of Fen’Harel would hopefully push them along as well, and hopefully more rumours would emerge as well and get them seeking those ready to take them in. Because he’d also been setting up points outside of cities, old Elvhen ruins with barriers Solas had taught him, made for hiding people and stores of food and water and clothing. Some were Solas' old camps, even.

 

Now to make sure the events were so big that no one would notice a bunch of missing people for several days.

 

“Hmm…” Marcus tapped the quill to his lip and took out his mirror. “Dorian. We need a way to keep them at these events. Do you-”

 

“ _Must you doubt me? They’re getting a free large glass of wine with each purchase, with the next glass being half price._ ” The Tevinter snorted. “ _I have it in hand. I’m rather good at causing a distraction. Not to mention I’ve got a few other shops in each city in on it, and taverns and pubs also joining in with some monetary incentive. Have no fear, your beloved amatus is on the case!_ ” He winked. “Anything else?”

 

“No, Dorian. You’re amazing. That’s all.”

 

“ _Good to receive the acknowledgement! Even though naturally you’d think that._ ” There was relief in his tone anyway. “ _Have a good sleep, amatus._ ”

 

This is why he loved him.

 

Marcus felt his smile drop.

 

But he worried for him, knowing that this would be the biggest exodus of people yet, and he hoped it would be enough.

 

It probably wouldn’t be, but he had to place his faith in hope that St. Clements would find out the traitors before they could do too much damage – because he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that there wouldn’t be masters that would worry, pay attention to rumours about their pet elves leaving, and would pay some gold to semi-loyal ones to know where they were at all times.

 

Hopefully alcohol did its job.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are happening, cor blimey...


	44. Silk Over Steel

 

** Ch44 **

 

 

 

 

 

Alcohol did its job too well.

 

Ivy swore as she killed a noble that recognised her eyes and was about to call out her name, the bright blue that they were.

 

She was too known.

 

But people around her were rioting.

 

She’d come the instant Marcus called her urgently, leaving a message that she was going on a quick trip out to Val Chevin for a few days to a maid, ignoring the look of panic on her face. She put on a cape and blank mask and grabbed a bag of things and left, going to an outer Eluvian they’d hidden in a dilapidated shipping storage warehouse rumoured to be haunted and emerging in Nevarra city.

 

The town was a mess, though it hadn’t gotten out to the other cities yet, which she thanked whatever gods for the slow technology then. Other St. Clements were on the case, knocking people out, killing them in some cases or locking them away into the private parties they were at. Locals Nevarran guards had no idea what to do as some people knocked out from spiked alcohol turned into many. It was both a blessing and a curse, this, because it looked terrible on the businesses and hers in particular for beginning the whole event, but it also drew much needed attention away from getting the elves out from the alienage and other places.

 

The Scot ducked away from her kill and climbed up the roof of one building, looking down from a high point to take an assessment of the situation. She peered around for archers and assassins but found none. Deciding to keep the scouting up and help her people, she moved on quickly, trying to recall the times she’d been here and struggling with the lost information bumbling about it her head. She breathed out when she got to the edge of a city wall, noting the group of dozens of elves running and pulling out carts with them. “Good, keep going.” She noted another couple of oranges and lemons at her height on other buildings. Smiling she, brought out and make a specific chime of a bell and they looked over instantly. She made the symbol for the lemons to follow and barrier the elves in case of patrols in that direction while the oranges would go back in and smooth over what they could.

 

Ivy followed the oranges as well, knowing things needed to be worked on.

 

Minutes later and she was back in the city proper. It was still a bit insane here, people shouting and freaking out. Time to get to work. The Make-Up by Montgomery was ordered to give out water and was doing all it could to help the guards while simultaneously being as big as a disruption to them as they could to delay the onset of order and give the runaways time to fully get to the Eluvian out of town. Some of the elves were still there and so she began to round them up.

 

_“If you want to be free, follow me.”_

 

“ _No, everything will be provided for you at the other side._ ”

 

“ _I’m not leading you to your doom, shut your face and move it, we don’t have time for this!_ ”

 

“ _No, you must go now._ ”

 

“ _Yes, there will be protection._ ”

 

Sentinels had taken over by the time the last elf child and her grandfather went into the Eluvian in the hidden home in the capital of Nevarra, oranges directing guards away from the home on Ivy’s command. The Sentinels saluted to her when they saw her and told her Fen’Harel wished to talk to her, but she couldn’t waste time on that, no matter how badly she wanted to see him after eight months of no physical contact and a year of beginning the plan. Half of the elves of Thedas should be in the Crossroads now, hopefully more than that. She told them she would be back later on tonight or tomorrow to make sure blame could be passed elsewhere.

 

Hours later and most everything had died down.

 

An orange of hers had set up one of the nobles to be the one who began the hysteria and stole other people’s servants, and with a few lies of people being paid a bit of gold it suddenly had people jumping on the bandwagon saying they saw him do this or that to be part of the crowd. They wanted revenge for damaged goods.

 

Ivy grimaced at doing this to an innocent person but… needs must.

 

A further night spent there to make sure blackmailing from the rich noble being blamed didn’t work and then she kept a couple of her oranges on it.

 

In a week or two she would send a lemon in to cut that loose end off.

 

She leaned against a tree in the Crossroads and slid down it in the quiet moment she had to herself.

 

It wasn’t the first time she’d had to do something like this, mercilessly sacrificing lives so the majority could get out and be free. Some St. Clements had turned rogue and sold some of them out and throats had to be slit to wipe that whole flock out because not one person could be trusted. There was likely innocent hard-working oranges and lemons there, but that was useless in the face of paranoia and having to protect the goal of uniting the world. It had been an extreme case for her, but it wasn’t the first. A few months back she’d had to take the desperate measure and kill a family herself because any one of them could have been killing elves to get information on where they were going and had been gaining traction into the whereabouts of the People to be.

 

She was exhausted, and if this was how Elvhen life was going to be, living with these memories for centuries on end, she didn’t know how her human mind was going to cut it.

 

Breathing out heavily as she ran hands over her face, she reached out to the magic around here, gaining attention as she pulled it into her to keep her energy up. She felt her hands shake and then cursed as he body shook, the whole doing that must have subconsciously reminded her of Andruil-

 

_Rosa gluin’en!_

_Flashes of starlight spears and mocking laughter._

_Rosa gluin’en sule Andruil!_

 

She jerked and dove to the side, magic flaring around her hands and elbows and knees, only to look up at nothing and then gave a half hysterical laugh as she slumped on her back and ran hands over her face.

 

Of course.

 

It wasn’t the first time to happen over the course of these months.

 

“Vhenan?” That beloved voice called out, first in amused curiosity and then again in worry when his superior elf sight saw her jitter and the magic spark around specific points on her body. “Ivy?” He came over instantly. “What is wrong? What happened?”

 

Soothing healing came over her, and the memory of that soon pushed out that of the worst time of her life. She let him take her hands gently from her face by the wrist. “Hello, love. I’m afraid you caught me at a bad time.” She gave a weak grin that was more of a grimace.

 

Solas ducked down, letting go of her hands to cup her shoulders and bring her into the circle of his arms. “You were shaking.”

 

“Ah, yes…”

 

“You thought of that time?” He asked softly and got a nod, her body shivering before she pulled it under control. “This is not the first time, is it?” He was gentle as she flinched. “You did not wish to come to me? Did you get comfort from someone at least?” He did not accuse or throw hot air at her not going to him, even if he felt the hurt at that. “No…” He murmured at her shake of the head. His mind whizzed through the reasons why and came up with one big one. “You did not wish to look weak?”

 

Ivy looked up at him. “I can’t. We must remain strong outwardly. I didn’t want you to see, or better yet, know. We cannot afford to look weak for our people. I didn’t want you to think of this as well as all else we have to do. It would be on your mind. You like to take guilt upon yourself. I couldn’t give you even more to worry over, at least until the world is whole and safe once more.”

 

Solas sighed to himself and hugged her warmly. He wished she wasn’t right in this. “Oh, vhenan. I have been remiss in my attention of you. You have been wonderfully strong.”

 

The dragon hunter looked up at him a little sheepishly. “Admittedly, I thought you’d react worse than this.”

 

“Of course I want you to come seek me. I can live without some sleep at this age, but as young as you are, you cannot.”

 

She smiled ruefully. “That’s a worry, too. That I would have seemed but a child.”

 

Solas acknowledged that, but he’d grown accustomed to the thought of it by now. “It was a worry, that you would see me as far too old and set in my ways as I understand it would be the opposite for you. At times it comes across my mind, but very rarely in the negative. More that your youth and inexperience is adorable to watch, and your wonder of magic a balm to the soul, your emotions real and deep and magnificent. I do not wish your energy to be fleeting and I hope, when the time comes, that apathy will be far, far away.”

 

Ivy grinned up at him, feeling better. “Have you been reading poetry lately?”

 

“Perhaps you’ve just forgotten how eloquent this tongue is?”

 

“Poetry. Definitely poetry.” She burst out laughing as he tickled her in revenge, squirming to get away, breathless when he let her go to fall back into soft, fragrant flowers and grinned up at his personage now above her.

 

Solas looked down at her below him, hands lightly curled by her ears, cheeks red and flushed, eyes glimmering with happiness, lips lightly parted as she breathed in and out quickly to catch her breath. Her hair was long and askew with it’s braid, and even though she looked grubby and was speckled with blood, unkempt and in need of a bath, he thought she looked utterly glorious. This was her working hard for their cause. He breathed out heavily, shaking his head as he ducked down and whispered, “Oh, _have I missed you_ , vhenan,” before kissing her fully, leaning his elbows on either side of her to entwine their fingers. She squeezed back and moaned at him lightly laying on her, wanting her heat up against him fully as her taste and touch sent his nerves blazing.

 

His magic rejoiced at the meeting of its’ partner once again when he coaxed her magic to join with his and the pair couldn’t help the gasp that left them as awareness flared deep and powerful.

 

It shook them, their eyes widening at each other, before hunger led them to swiftly magic away clothing and for him to give a single thrust and for a shameful lack of stamina on both of their ends had them coming hard and quivering powerfully in less than twenty seconds of furious need, his back and her hips scratched from where they dug into each other. They panted, sweating from the intense moment of pure want flooding them, mouths open in astonishment at the moment before she grinned and the burst into happy giggles and he followed, laughing and burying his face into her neck. His lips couldn’t help but be magnetized to her and he kiss her hungrily, groaning when she joined in just as needful.

 

It only made him resilient in thought that he stated as he reluctantly lifted from her soft lips to say, “We are not to part again for so long, ma’lath.”

 

She hummed in agreement, rubbing her lips against his and making a low keening sound as he pulled out, feeling bereft. “It was an amazingly good quickie though…” She mused, making him scoff lightly and nuzzle into her neck. “Hm, reunion sex is definitely good. Not to be repeated too often, however. Seriously, it’s terrible for it to be that quick. Damn were we needy. Seriously, I looked like crap, you must have been having a momentary leave of your senses.” She laughed, only playing.

 

But he lifted his head up and gave her a look that made her quiet. Seeing her there freshly drunk off of love and sex, eyes sparkling, in the pretty flowers that couldn’t even hold a candle to who she was that made her so incredible to behold. Stories lived in the tales of her scars that had carried onto this Elvhen body of hers, hands calloused that showed her profession of fighting for herself, others and to right the world. Her whole being shone to him, magic flowing in a silken flow of molten-lava-orange in a sixth sense, powerful but relaxed. And she was his bond. “No.”

 

Solas looked… Reverent.

 

“Solas?”

 

“You are the most magnificent sight I have seen. You are unmatched in all the centuries I have lived through and I will bet on all the gold obtained between us that it is the same for all that I have slept through. I am honoured you have chosen me to stand by your side for your smile and cheer have had eyes glued to you in all the time I’ve known you and that it is I that gets to have that one smile directed my way? I am enchanted, and humbled by you.”

 

Ivy felt her face get redder and redder, something she normally didn’t get, quite the flirt and rather experienced… in bodily matter.

 

Of the heart?

 

“Look at your blush!” He teased, looking boyish and playful and she made a face at him, turning her head away. “Ah, ah, ah! Now I know-”

 

“Oh hush!” She cried out, laughing and utterly embarrassed by her actions, putting the back of her hand over her grinning mouth. “Go away, you!” She tried to push him away with her free hand but he caught it and pressed kissed to it, making her squirm and whine. “Bah! You’re making me act silly, you blasted-” She felt her lips get captured by his and arms wrap around her waist just to turn them over so she was on top of him. Her hips couldn’t help but rub, slicked heat thrusting against his hardening cock once more before she lined them up and sunk down on his thick cock, making them groan in unison into their kiss.

 

Fast had happened, but now she wanted to enjoy the motions, and rode him slowly. So, so slowly and feeling every inch of him in and out of her. Kisses were drugging and lazy, nothing was hurried, and each successive orgasm was just as easy-going and gentle as the last. They would have kept going for hours yet, watching each other with lidded eyes and little smirks and barely-there caresses if not for far off energy signalling an incoming of people. They reluctantly parted, Solas cleaning them up and clothing them in his Commander uniform with magic, though he did little to banish the scent of sex in the air, unashamed. He looked at the tree, making sure to remember it, magic striking a line down it as Ivy went forth to meet with the incoming Sentinels.

 

She looked back at the flair of it, raising a brow at him, but she grinned at his proud little shrug and smirk and turned forward once more, entwining fingers before her. She smiled at Solas when he stood next to her, hands clasped behind him, suddenly realising he’d put them both in armour that gleamed golden-green and was super light, even if it looked heavy. She couldn’t help but twist and turn in it and found barely any hesitating in how the armour could twist. “Whoa. Sweet duds.”

 

Snorting at her obvious amusement, Solas explained, “It hardens when you put your magic into it and reacts to your will. Like so.”

 

She watched as it did indeed gleam and seem to get weightier. “This is so good.” She complimented with a grin. Then she ran a hand down her silvery russet wolf pelt. “And of course, the fur. Can’t leave home without it,” She added on cheekily.

 

His eyes narrowed playfully before he turned a more serious look on the Sentinels. He wordless awaited their news.

 

Abelas’ head bowed to them both. “The People have settled in. We rooted out several traitors and spies and await your orders on them.”

 

Solas was quite fine with simply getting rid of them and said so.

 

“We will be doing enough ridding of life later on, won’t we?” Ivy spoke up softly. “Could we not simply keep them under guard until all the people we could save are here, and simply push them out?”

 

The Dread Wolf listened to his clearly much kinder-hearted mate, saying nothing for a considering moment. “Perhaps they can be of use then, in the meantime.” He understood that she got he didn’t mean as making them work the fields or something as soft as that. He was not so generous as that and if they wanted to turn on their own people, then he was fine with using them against the ones they sided with.

 

Ivy wasn’t young and naïve enough to want to stop him. Nor would she want to. She’d lived The Game right now and this was nothing. That they were getting extra time alive was something her resolute partner would consider a gift. She recalled how Mythal had acted in the summoning circle of hers and forcing the dragon on her as a present. His gift was their continued existence even as proven enemies, and theirs to him would be their hands as his tools of getting things done.

 

Regardless of it they wanted it or not.

 

It was harsh, but that was the man she bonded to, and she accepted that.

 

Such a thing didn’t bother the hunter as much as it probably should, but morals get skewed in war.

 

Even if the other side didn’t know there was one.

 

“There is movement from the qunari. We-”

 

_“Well, well, well… What have we here? Hasn’t it been quite the while, Fen’Harel?”_

 

Solas stiffened as he recognised that silk-over-steel voice and immediate worry for his curious wife drew him into moving forward and hiding her behind him as the Sentinels hands went to their weapons immediately.

 

Ivy had caught the sight of sleek chestnut coloured hair that flowed to knees and bright bronze eyes before Solas went forth.

 

“ _And smelling of bonded sex._ ” He chuckled, enjoying that new knowledge. _“Congratulations! A most joyous event for you, Fen’Harel. If you hadn’t locked the world away, we would have been feasting for decades! Oh, but bringing that up as if I were trying to attack you is so gauche, is it not? Come now, we have manners despite our pasts, yes? Introduce me to your wife. She is human, isn’t she? Cute rounded ears, I believe I saw. Rather remarkable for you, who always ignored those barbarians._ ” The unwelcome elf continued on, slightly mocking, and Irish accent giving it a playful cadence that didn’t suit the mood. His footsteps drew closer to them. “But I do suppose they must have changed, given the opportunity of immense time they had.”

 

Solas didn’t move, or reply, simply readied his magic quietly, focused in a way he hadn’t been for millenia.

 

“No? Then I shall start. Bonded of Fen’Harel, congratulations on getting this flighty pooch of yours, I am June.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peace out x


	45. Extravagance and a Sinking Ship

 

** Chapter Forty-Five **

 

 

If there was one thing June could do, Ivy thought to herself as they sat at a low table with large amounts of food and drink, it was talk.

 

Solas was holding nothing back when it came to a viperous tongue, a little smirk on his face as he sipped at his wine and reclined on some pillows, and June seemed to find gleeful pleasure in it as he baited back. The two seemed to have fun with this, leaning on their sides to face each other like they’d been bonded as brothers and she was rather unsure as how to act as they flipped into tension and then back out into funny little stories. She supposed this must be what it was like back then, because Solas seemed to change a little, become that touch more arrogant. She let Solas play for now, but her mind went back to Celene and the court and the capital city.

 

He could play or bait June into fighting for them or whatever fun he was having. She had work to do.

 

Was the capital fine? Had Dorian been able to cover it up well?

 

Her spaced-out mind as she looked upon the landscape of open lands as magic bobbed and danced apparently caught the attention of June as she sipped at her tea, sitting on her calves.

 

“And your darling mate looks bored by us! You are a thousand leagues away, dear Lady Dread!”

 

Oh, great, she was being drawn into it when she wanted to quickly leave and get back to trying to keep her life together. She didn’t let the frustration show, recalling the luxurious feeling of lengthy sex with her husband to keep her calm. “Lady Dread? That’s a new one,” She mused to herself, wondering at the nicknames she had. “I do not often visit the Crossroads. It’s grown.”

 

June tilted onto his back, lifting onto his elbows, expensive clothing folding over him, multiple bejewelled bracelets clinking. “Oh? It’s rather ramshackle compared to what we know,” He remarked with a dismissal hum as he gestured between himself and Solas, who inclined his head at that. He picked at a fine choice bit of meat and sniffed, not impressed.

 

 _Extravagance in Repose_ , came to mind as she watched him, twines of warmth floating up to her from her cup of tea. That bit of meat would even have Celene jealous. She knew she should probably be more accommodating, be more of her real personality to get him to like her, but she was tired, mentally drained from trying to hold back her trembles, from keeping it all going, from little sleep. She was kind of in need of affection too. She drank her tea down, coating her tongue and throat from burn. Then she poured herself a shot of whiskey, and necked that, too. Probably too good to be enjoyed in that way, but she put it down and stood, uncaring it was some breach of their social dinner etiquette by the looks on both of their faces.

 

“Ivy?”

 

Immediately some Sentinels came over, ready to give over reports and she held her hands out for them. “Please enjoy yourselves. I’m sure I will see more of you, June, and perhaps we can become friends.” Her eyes went to Solas as she took the paper, seeing a bit of tightness around the eyes. She’d displeased something he was doing, building up, but she had little patience this day. She wasn’t about to apologize. Solas had little to worry about on this side, and she was feeling chipped away at and could feel some bitterness crawling in from her exhaustion. “Solas.”

 

“Bond.”

 

Unsure once again, Ivy went to leave them to it, only to turn to see Mythal a step from her and froze.

 

_Wonderful._

 

“Mythal! And you’re looking so human these days!” June greeted, standing up with Solas.

 

“Sister?”

 

Ivy felt a touch of relief in her as Marcus came through with a group of elves to be rehomed.

 

“So many humans!” The God continued on, amused, though there was a tinge of something there. Discontentment, perhaps. “And yet… the power of the Evanuris is in you all! There hasn’t been a meeting of Evanuris so calm in so many millenia! What a joy to be part of it…” He trailed off as he looked at the siblings. “You are, after all, simply the carriers of Andruil and Sylaise. The first of our People do not die so easily.”

 

Marcus gave a wide grin at that, though his eyes hardened, with Ivy following his lead.

 

“Quite the statement from one who lost his mind so easily,” Mythal scoffed, putting a hand to Ivy’s back. “Do join us, dear, you deserve a break.”

 

Ivy gave a slight grin at that. “My break would be sleeping.”

 

Marcus snorted, looking rueful. “The fun never ends. But I could do with some food? I’ll leave with you if we need to go somewhere, though.”

 

Her eyes went to the folders but did end up saying, “I can stay until you finish eating.”

 

Her brother hummed and sat down, holding his hand out to her. “Empress getting you down?” He asked as she took it and sat with crossed legs, documents on lap.

 

Mythal silently joined her other side as she watched the hunter fill a plated for Marcus, “When doesn’t royalty put their presence unduly on others?” The old woman cackled lowly as Ivy then did the same for her, putting a plate before her and handing her cutlery she asked of magic to give her. “Hah! Getting rather good at this magic business, I see, eh siblings?” She mentioned as Marcus brought in a whiskey from memory, magic recreating it for them.

 

After all, magic had its’ limits, even for the Evanuris.

 

It’s why glyphs even existed.

 

What these two were doing was creating it from magic itself. What all other mages did was to summon it from another area or form it from their own magic that had entwined with their bodies after great control and manipulation. They didn’t simply take it from a memory, from raw magic itself without any manipulations of energy whatsoever. Not like these two siblings did. She could feel the subtlety in the magic, and was wondrous at it, knowing a new era would come from these two. She was not going to be on the wrong side of them. Not when magic wanted to serve them. When it knew that they were an energy unto themselves, simply because they came from ‘Other’ and wanted to use that source of energy.

 

She didn’t notice Marcus cock his head and look at her introspectively.

 

How Ivy’s own bond could not see that was his own failing, still somewhat of a dogmatist in humans being lesser.

 

That June couldn’t feel the differences, keyed to the subtle differences in waves of energy as he was to have created some of their most useful inventions, was bewildering and she couldn’t help but want to smile patronisingly at the one she’d once raised as her own child.

 

The two blinked at her, not knowing what she meant, looking at each other for an answer before both of them squinted at her.

 

The Mother Goddess smiled crookedly and plucked up a piece of apricot, cutting it open with her magic and vanishing the pip. She had to use magic of course, it was no less expected of her. If she didn’t, it would be looked down upon by the other two original Evanuris. She noted the Heir had put herself in a position of serving, which the creative June would look down upon. It could come in handy, but it would not do well for them if they wanted to get June on board.

 

June looked at the three of them opposite himself and Fen’Harel, taking it all in with a smile and eyes that spoke of meddling. He focused on the weak link there, the one all the work was given to, and smiled at her. “So, it looks as though you take on much.”

 

Honestly, he could interpret her words anyway he wished, and she knew he wanted to figure things out, wanted to find a challenge, wanted to find if there was any worth to her, to Solas as his bond, to anything of what they were doing. But she was not beholden to that, and just like he would kill her as easily as a normal person would kill a mosquito, so would she him. He would better serve them by giving over his essence. “I do.” She would let him sniff after her, knowing she already has interest by simply being here. She grasped all of her folders and then focused her magic as she brought them to her lips, waiting until they shimmered with magic seen to her eyes and then smelt it.

 

June raised his brows, almost bothered by the reproachable attitude this one had at the dinner table. “Humans are such… odd creatures.”

 

Solas stiffened. He’d wanted Ivy in on softening up the Evanuris by being her jovial self, knowing June approved of merry-making and stories that she was so good at. He’d hoped the sex would have calmed her, but it seemed his bond was not in the mood. His hunter was too uncomfortable here, and it got to him that it took Marcus to soothe her. He’d wished his own presence was enough. Should he have done something more? _No,_ he mentally dismissed as he looked to June with a bored expression. _They had much time to fix whatever it was._

 

Now was the time to work on another ally.

 

“The Western Approach,” Ivy told Marcus, who smiled at her with a mocking edge and held a hand out. She grabbed a coin purse and gave it to him, knowing that he’d found another Eluvian in the place he’d estimated the location of accurately enough and could fix it up. The Approach needed more looking after, what with elves being sent there to hide away with supplies and trading caravans going through with ever more frequency now she’d dealt with the dragons and helped trade with Anderfels along a half year back. “That was a bet I was happy to lose, don’t get smug. You’re insufferable when you get smug.”

 

“That’s what big brothers are for.”

 

“Uck.”

 

Mythal narrowed her eyes. “You took in the information in those reports? Clever, clever. I look forward to you both using your creativity to the benefit of our People. It has been so long since anything new has pushed our People forward.” A dig at the inventor, who too casually took a sip of his drink, magic barely flickering in annoyance, but still enough for her to pick up on it. He’d done nothing that would be considered impressive in many a century.

 

“Indeed! One did not expect any such progress in such dire times from people in this day and age,” June replied, looking about the place and only confirming Mythal’s words at his need to defend himself.

 

Solas sleekly jumped in on that, wanting to push buttons. “Ingenuity pushes People in dire times, it is not surprising the ease did not produce anything so noteworthy since June’s floating carriages. Of course, they were more an amusement than any true useful technology, a way to pass time rather than to make efficient use of time like the Eluvian’s. I hear you are fixing them, Marcus?”

 

“Once you’ve got the basic code of glyphs, it is rather easy to manipulate them. To then add my own to it, to get them to do as I wish? That was more the challenge. One I completed successfully in a single month.” Sylaise gave him ease of fire and healing, but he’d always been mentally strong, and glyphs and memories of computer programming back on Earth had helped him to make the Eluvian’s his own. His own interests when growing up had been chemistry and computers compared to Ivy’s more physical ones like baking and acrobatics. “Something more challenging would be good, but I suppose I’ll have to wait for inspiration to strike.”

 

“A far cry from you not being able to power one a mere one year ago, as I recall the length of time to be. Less, even. Your skill is great,” The Dread Wolf complimented, noting Ivy’s proud expression with a small smile, which only added to June’s inward agitation.

 

His pride in being the most creative was his weak point, and it was being hit exceedingly accurately, and _hard_.

 

“You have built upon my Eluvian’s and Crossroads?” June leant forward, glass in hand held tight.

 

“Yes. It was a fun hobby,” The man answered earnestly. “Yes, the tricky part was getting across without passwords, but I bypassed that and added layers of my own protections to it. I’m sure you approve?” He did too, using computer virus knowledge like trojan horses to trap and trick those who were not welcome. Glyphs, when you knew it, were rather like coding, and he knew plenty of computer languages to not only buff the Eluvian’s, but to completely ‘rewrite’ the way it was done.

 

June’s lips twitched into pursing for a split-second. “Indubitably. I would enjoy looking at what you’ve done?”

 

Marcus inclined his head. “The glyphs are there, waiting to be deciphered, though there are so very many now. Plus, I’ve made several designs that make the basic Eluvian more useful than ever.” He took out the handheld Eluvian, rather like a pocket watch and pressed a button, which sprung it open to show off the mirror. He ran a thumb over the liquid like mirror as he remarked, “Fully workable, as you can see.” Then he closed it and put it away into his pocket unconcernedly as if he didn’t see June’s eyes avidly follow it. “Though, naturally, I shan’t tell you how. Makers secrets, you understand.”

 

“Oh, I do. Tell me, do you have more ideas in that lovely brain of yours?” The God purred out.

 

“Always do.” He finished his plate, then his whiskey and turned to Ivy. “We really need to work on some basis of a w-w-w-dot.”

 

“One thing that would make it all so worth it,” She winked at him and they chuckled.

 

Marcus nudged her shoulder. “Ready to go? Your businesses and country require you once more, yes?” He asked, showing her significance off to the world as it currently was. At her nod, he stood up and held her hand to pull her up with him. “A pleasure meeting you, June. It is good to know the competition and all that it is.”

 

June’s jaw twitched.

 

It did so again the next few times they met up as the God met his mental match, before competitiveness and pride had him joining them as ally on the basis he would have Marcus work with him so he could prove his superiority.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

A while ago, Solas and Cassandra had indeed help Ivy create new laws, but it was the arrival of the anticipated Josephine that smoothed things over, ever so pleased to have such a challenge before her. The Antivan had quietly admitted to her over a few glasses of red that to the end of the Inquisitions main goal to take down Corypheus that nobles and merchant alike were falling over themselves to please her and get an in with the not inconsequential force that seemed to dominate southern Thedas. She delighted in this new problem, something different than swaying nobles to hand over money, and traders to get good discounts.

 

This was something worthy to bite her teeth into.

 

Celene enjoyed having back the Ambassador that once graced her halls, and was appearing more and more in the conversations between them of laws and subsections that could be tweaked only a little to produce a very different outcome than the clause had previously stated.

 

Ivy decided that there had been a bit too much free time for Celene these days, and so prodded Marcus into helping set up assassins from different countries to attack. Ivy would not know who or what or when, and so with the help of her brother attacking her Empress, she was able to pretend to also be fighting against the attacks by moving Chevaliers closer in the Empress’ defence… which fortunately helped in relocating others. Quite like how assassins would like to relocate Celene from Thedas into the afterlife. Celene was getting worried, and in turn was depending more on Ivy, which played right into her hands as she took more power.

 

Josephine watched this all carefully, Ivy understood, and saw that more than ever the Godslayer was going to get power a lot quicker than predicted.

 

The Antivan thought Leliana had a hand on things with her spies, but soon noticed that St. Clements was keeping them under thumb, misleading or directing them elsewhere or letting them take choice information and numbers that could change so quickly. One of the reasons she was here was for her close friend, but without being here, Leliana truly had no clue how out of touch she was with the actual situation here. Orlais was a hot spot for intrigue before, but now there were so many angles and players that were new.

 

Leliana thought Ivy was manipulating all, but she didn’t see how the Heir was drowning under all the responsibility, struggling with the demands of the Empire, and mourning the loss of Solas.

 

So, when the Antivan pointed this out, she asked for Josephine’s help.

 

Hesitant as to which side she should take in this, Josephine watched on, helping where she could. What side should she be on here? Leliana’s, who was easily used to this but completely wrong, or Ivy’s, who had so many angles and loyalty but was barely maintaining it. The one who would undermine for the Inquisition’s safety, or the one who was trying to proper a country?

 

She did not realise that choosing one or the other would damn her world either way.

 

Josephine looked down at her half-finished cup of tea.

 

Ivy just stared at her, patient, hoping that-

 

“Apologies, but I will soon leave. I do not think I can take on two sets of work.”

 

She smiled, hiding the disappointment. “A shame, the People could have done with someone as talented as you helping them. Naturally, I can only wish you luck.” She looked out the window, sipping from her cup.

 

Josephine inwardly flinched, because the Heir had very few she could potentially turn to as the number of enemies just rose and rose, seeking to bring down the Empire that looked like it couldn’t even keep its line of succession going from blood relative to blood relative. From visiting her home town to see her family, she heard the mocking done about the Empress, how the army was softening, that they couldn’t even look after their people. Relations between countries were deteriorating fast now a major threat had been killed off, where once they’d been strengthening against Corypheus, and it was ever worse than before.

 

Quietly, the Ambassador decided she would do all she could for the woman to keep her as safe as she could.

 

She was trying to save a sinking ship at this point.

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

Dorian nodded at Ivy through the handheld Eluvian, taking up a room in Skyhold to ‘meet with old friends’ and personally bring back reports from across the country about Arthur’s continued disappearance. The orphanages and all places the Iron Bull and his Chargers were rumoured to have been seen were scraped over for any detail that may lead to the next possible place. “We’ve found as many elves as we could. No one can find any more of our pointy-eared companions in the main countries. I believe it’s time to implement the next part of the plan.”

 

She sighed from the other side. “ _As much as I wish it, it’s impossible to pick up every elf we can. We’ve given enough time. Our favourite hobo has done as much research as he can with June and Marcus’ input and needs Alexius now. It’s time to get all the information we can to remember the old world, time to pinch people other than elves, and it’s time for us to begin the immortality process for them all. I doubt many will come from the ones St. Clements has picked out, but it is what it is._ ”

 

The Tevinter nodded, feeling like he was unsure. “Do you ever feel… as if…”

 

“ _We’re not doing the right thing? Trust me, hell yes is your answer._ ”

 

He breathed out in relief that he wasn’t about to get wrung through verbally. “I am- yes.” He chuckled, feeling tired all of a sudden.

 

“ _Life will be better on the other side of it_.”

 

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

 

It came out perhaps more waspish than he’d have liked, but he didn’t regret it.

 

She grinned at him without any real emotion in her eyes. “ _Every time I look in a mirror, brother dearest. See you three at dinner tonight._ ”

 

Jaw clenched, he closed the now dormant mirror with a rather loud ‘ _clack!’_ and put his forehead to the piece, haggardly sighing out.

 

Dorian was scared this whole thing would come collapsing down on them, that at any moment they’d be found out and would have no way of getting out of it alive. He was terrified to lose his home, to lose everything to, as Sera crudely put it with added lewd hip thrusting, ‘Elvhen Glory’. Their people were worth remembering too, not just to be put in a book and ignored because ‘ _human_ ’. The Tevinter’s, despite all reputations, adored history and preserved all it could. They were respectful of where they came from. Yes, with the added bonus of being braggarts of their own history, but they’d chronicled other countries for centuries as well, even having said countries come over as delegations to see all sorts of pieces of their history.

 

He just didn’t want what made him _who he was_ to be lost.

 

Dorian would take Gereon Alexius on those daily walks that the hollow-eyed Inquisitor let him out of being watched from, and he would bring him to Solas.

 

But he was now going to work on his own Human History project, and chronicle their people in all their ugly and beautiful splendour.

  

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got June... kind of.
> 
> Thanks to the newly arrived and long time appreciators of this fic! Your Kudos and Bookmarks are always adored! Words make me blush x


	46. Bit o' This, Bit o' That.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy mmmoly i updated. giggity.

** Chapter Forty-Six **

 

 

 

He couldn’t find her.

 

No matter where he looked, Solas was unable to find Ivy.

 

Worry edged at him when he reached inwardly to touch her magic inside him and it didn’t respond. He knew she wasn’t dead – it would be immediately obvious, for he would have a hole in him forevermore – but this was not something he was prepared for either.

 

It was horrifyingly unnatural to have the bond be this still, so he had swiftly left the table with the first elves that would be granted the eagerly awaited immortality for being the most trustworthy that would be in charge of specific groups without an explanation. That it took until having to need her to realise he’d not seen or interacted with her other than through the mirror for a month shamed him, but they’d both been busy beyond comprehension. More elves meant more homes to build, to teach, to feed, to educate, and so much more on that front, and then with the research to bring the Veil down safer, on trying to keep hostilities between peoples at a minimum?

 

And that was just his end of things.

 

Ivy was dealing with a suddenly dying economy without their elven labourers, with unrest growing, with a whole Empire to run now that the Empress had been assassinated and she’d been coronated, and taking care of her own assassins that were after her blood was one of the least of her problems.

 

Yet now she was gone.

 

Solas feared the worst for his-

 

His head snapped to the side as Ivy slammed into the ground next to him before he left the realm of the elves, coughing and choking at the ricochet. “Vhenan!” He thanked the stars she was _alive_.

 

The Empress groaned and turned onto her front, pushing up into a stand as he came over to her instantly, helping her up the rest of the way. “Solas, please tell me we finished the research and I don’t have to deal with insane powers and we can go mass produce a dozen wolf kids.”

 

The Dread Wolf snorted at that, bringing her closer as he touched her now vibrating bit of magic in him with his own, so happy to know she was as fine as she could be. “As if it would be so easy for us. What happened? I had thought the worst when your magic stilled inside of me. Uthenera, or a coma,” He asked desperately, needing to know.

 

“I went to a Void. I wanted to know if I could have used that to find some sort of trace of Arthur.”

 

The power of Andruil, of course. He buried his face in her neck in relief, slinking arms around and holding her tight to his body, telling himself she was here. “Ivy, next time, _tell me_. That was more than just alarming.”

 

Guilty, Ivy wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Solas. I only thought I could go through via an Eluvian like we did to get out of the Fade. I didn’t think it would just open before me and allow me to traverse a different negated timeline. As soon as I realised I could do it, that it truly was another Voided timeline, I came back.” Feeling his fingers tighten on her, she whispered, “Oh, Solas…”

 

In those moments of her gone, he had realised just what this bond meant to him, what future she represented to him, of the hopes and dreams he wanted to share with her into making a reality of them. He thought it all lost, of living without his heart, that after the rising of his people to their rightful status, he would simply just vanish as his only usefulness with her gone was- _No_. He could not think that way, and nor did he need to. She was here. It was just a very unwelcome reminder of all he could stand to lose. Something he did not want to ever lose and suddenly the urge to have her overtook him, to make her his.

 

He kissed her hard and lifted her up into his arms as he slowly walked to a tree.

 

Ivy knew what he wanted, felt him grind his erection into her lower belly as he went to bring them somewhere and she sucked in a breath, feeling her own body pulse in heated desire and she shivered at what she wanted to happen. His body was cool to the touch, and far too armoured up in that emerald and copper-gold coloured General Dread Wolf outfit of his. She wanted his skin on hers and she whimpered when his hand widened along her back, creeping down and gripping her arse and kept her so close that nothing would part them. His touch was possessive, not allowing anything between them and she absolutely adored that. She could not tolerate a companion that did not know what he wanted and was so glad he simply wanted her for good.

 

He sucked at a little spot just below the ear and she moaned femininely, which had him pulsing in need to have her closer, pushing her into him and he leant her back against a tree, taking control of this. He kissed up her chin, unable to think of anything but her touch, wanting more of her taste on his tongue. Then she let go and moved her head back and he shuddered a breath in. His eyes lit upon hers and he leaned down and kissed her, urgent and hot, feeling on fire and slowly sliding her belt off of her own version of Empress of Orlais' outfit, flinging it away and then went to her breast-band, moving from her to rip it away from her. There were mere moments before he simply magicked away their clothing after staring in amazement at her eagerness for him, slick and dripping all over his fingers when he simply ran fingers over her hot molten core. It felt like coming home when he slowly sunk his cock into her and they groaned at the feel of it. “You are a wonder.”

 

“You feel so fucking good in me, so bloody thick and hot and hard and- agh!” He thrust up hard to cut her off, smirking as she glowered at him before grinning dopily, eyes dark. “More please?”

 

“But, of course.” Leaning down to take a rosy pink nipple in her mouth and suck, making her keen out, he shoved himself into her powerfully, desperately wanting his seed to take and by the stars he loved the sound she made when he found that one spot that had her keening for more and he knew well, continuing to drive into it. He lifted a finger to tweak her other nipple, painfully hard and so very sensitive and making her shift against him, rubbing along his body that couldn’t feel it adequately and so he vanished his own clothing properly, pulling out and rubbing against her to tease her.

 

“Solas, you blasted-”

 

He knew people were close however, and whispered dirtily into her ear, “I wanted to make this drawn out for hours and hours, wanted you to never forget any time I am worshipping you, but I must be in you.” His cock thrust against her lips and at her hurried nod he slammed into her in one go, both of them crying out and it only took a few thrusts before she’d come once again on his dick as his magic throbbed in her, grasping his cock greedily. Her walls clenching and fluttering about him powerfully made him gasp, almost milking him but he held back – if only just. He slumped down to the ground and used her hips to crash her down onto his hard erection, watching her intently. She groaned and rode him and he stared at her in absolute wonder, and when she locked lips with him, he swallowed down her sounds eagerly, kissing back with passion.

 

He ground into her, pleasure flushing down his spine and through his cock and she whimpered on his lap and rode him still, his hands on her hips helping her along. He gripped harder and began slamming her down, angling to the right slightly as he accurately found that spot that had her yelping and he pounded there, watching her face as she let the world know her pleasure, thrilling him. Her pants were loud, desperate as he thrust up roughly, needing to make her cry out on him, and he felt the urge to come, powerful and sudden as she clenched hard and came hard, lips finding his and yelling into his mouth as he came, filling her up with thick hot seed and claiming her as his. He felt the flash of heat so unusual to them and frowned before understanding.

 

Pride and joy welled in him as utter pleasure thrashed through him.

 

_She was ready to take on his children…! Her body was going into reproduction mode!_

 

His thighs clenched and twitched as he squirted load after load into her, exhausting him at his desire to procreate.

 

“What the… that was… incredible…!” Ivy stated, gasping for breath and utterly sated.

 

He nuzzled into her, giving her moments of pure affection and love. “Ar lath ma. You bring me such joy in life.”

 

She blinked at him, because, joy? That was more for… well, children. Bundle of joy and all that. Of course, she’d rather a couple at once than just the singular one, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers and all that. Unhappily, she got up, shuddering at the empty feeling in her and Solas clothed her instantly, nodding so to himself afterwards and making her lean down to kiss him, the pair now magically both in the General regalia Solas favoured, watching her carefully. He magicked away the majority of his seed from her, letting some dribs remain.

 

He didn’t know if it was but… He got up, stroking her cheek, knowing in the next few times they would most certainly be parents. That flash of heat must signal it. He truly hoped so. He would have to keep her filled.

 

There was a sudden sound of a toddler.

 

It made the two snap their heads around.

 

Both of them recognised the woman and child.

 

Arthur was chewing on some sort of toy, teeth having come through, and surprisingly like his father in looks in the arms of the woman. Blue eyes lined with kohl were above a cute button nose and pulled down pursed lips in distaste. The clothing was that of the old ancient Elvhen, robes that fell to the ground in affluent, rich fabrics and jewellery rather like the ancient Egyptians what with the chunky gold bands on her upper arms and the thick necklace around her neck. Her head bore a crown of golden antlers, and the halla motif was clear when she stepped forward and golden halla danced over her clothing. Power flared from her suddenly, making her smirk as she bounced the baby almost mockingly.

 

Solas clenched his jaw and greeted through gritted teeth, “Ghilan’nain.”

 

“Dread Wolf.”

 

Ivy’s eyes widened as understanding warped through her and she felt like she was winded. “Mina.”

 

“Jiejie.”

 

Solas’ head snapped down to the woman in his arms, recognising that word from Cole.

 

He looked at the Evanuris in a new light then, eyes roaming her face intensely to see the similarities between them.

 

Same eyes, same hair colour and jawline…

 

“The Dread Wolf, Ivy? Wouldn’t have thought of that in a thousand years. Of course, it has been longer than that.”

 

“My sister is… Ghilan’nain?”

 

“And my sister is the one who killed my lover.” There was a darkness to her face then, a sneer of malevolency. “Perhaps I should return the favour?” She held the child up with one hand grasping the back of his clothing and letting him dangle painfully. He instantly began crying at the harsh positioning he was going through. “Arthur is so darling, isn’t he?”

 

“Mina, stop!”

 

Ghilan’nain contemplated that. “Hm, no deal.” She suddenly chucked the child to the side carelessly, a large mouth coming out of the ground belonging to a dragon. It’s green maw opened wide to show spit riddled yellowed teeth and ferocious fire built up.

 

Reacting, Ivy simply pumped her body full of haste and bolted over the, earning herself a burn all along her arm that she focused on healing as she successfully rescued the child, about to throw up a barrier like Solas taught her-

 

Pain flood her as something rammed into her stomach and came out the other side.

 

-And she choked on her own blood, looking down at the hand in her abdomen in shock as fingers flexed mockingly up at her. This was happening. Her own sister was trying to kill her. Her little Mina. She mouthed ‘why’ wordlessly as she looked over her shoulder, only to see the hungry look on Ghilan’nain’s face turn into a fake look of confusion.

 

Mina shrugged casually. “I’m bitter. And bored. Ah, Andruil!” Mina licked her neck seductively, sucking a love bite into her jaw with a sexual groan that had Ivy wanting to throw up. “Qunari are so easy to manipulate when you create them like any other beast.” She shrieked as her hand was chopped off at the elbow as Solas slashed her arm off and then burst into cackles as it regrew quickly, muscle and veins growing over bone slickly before layers of skin covered it.

 

He swiftly pulled it out and healed her of the terrible wound, pushing her behind him protectively, manipulating the environment as his mate behind him did something with her magic. He didn’t focus on what she was doing as her raw untrained power throbbed from behind him, only that suddenly Mina stumbled and clutched her head and howled in rage. The Dread Wolf cursed as she jumped away, and wanted to chase after her in his six-eyed lupine form, but animals were her domain and always had been and he dare not become one in fear of being turned on his beloved mate and kin-son. That was only one option however, and Solas had his full power back and more.

 

His eyes glowed a neon blue as he attempted to capture her in stone, but he failed to understand where Mythal had learnt it from.

 

Ghilan’nain barked out a laugh and batted that away, knowing it was one of his strongest abilities to stop an enemy in their tracks. “Your Gorgon tactics won’t work on me!” However, there were far too many people here, and even though her power was above them, she didn’t know their full list of skills. Not to mention the two other incoming Evanuris. “Another time, I suppose.” She vanished in a puff of smoke.

 

Mythal and June scowled up at the last place she was in.

 

“Gone,” The Mother Goddess scoffed.

 

Ivy hushed the child as best as she could, until wrapping her magic around him worked to quiet him. It soothed him, reacting to it favourably. She frowned at that, before understanding touched her features. “Oh! _I’d_ turned him.”

 

That had occurred to Solas a little while back. “The very first person you’d used apotheosis on, I’d wager.”

 

Ivy gave him a grin and then looked down at Arthur, who was gripping onto her hair, hiccupping. “No wonder I was so tired that morning in camp. In the Approach. You can turn people to stone, then?”

 

“I… yes. How did you know this?”

 

“Gorgon tactics.”

 

Mythal raised a brow. “You know what this means? She had never told me, only laughed and pressed past it.”

 

“It’s an old tale, from a couple thousand years before we were born. A cursed woman, whose stare would turn others into stone. Her name was Medusa, and she was turned into a Gorgon, a half snake woman. The Medusa head was carved above places as a symbol of protection for women. This was because Medusa was raped in a temple because she was beautiful, but because sex was not allowed in a temple, she was cursed for it, even though she never asked for it, being brutally assaulted as she was. From then on, any under her stare were turned into stone. Beautiful and terrifying, with snakes for hair and a hatred of mortal men. Ghilan’nain loves animals. Anything that relates to it will be under her purview. No wonder that Evanuris was renowned for her animals.”

 

“You know more?” June inquired, astute gaze on her.

 

Solas touched her back, keeping close as his magic stayed alert for any disruptions in the magic around them. “Anything would be helpful, vhenan.”

 

“Ghilan’nain was a healer, as before she knew magic she knew science. She cared for patients because she was kind and compassionate. She loved animals as a topic and could go on about them for hours if you didn’t stop her. She knew biology well and loved to create things.” Ivy gave a small smile at the memory as the three watched her carefully at the knowledge they’d never known. “It’s not surprising to me in the slightest that she began to create animals the likes people had never seen before when magic was her tool of creativity. Her name is Mina Montgomery. She’s… She was my younger sister. Technically I am born before her despite her many years.”

 

“This is a good thing-” June said excitedly at the thought of having one over the hard to kill Ghilan’nain.

 

“Good thing…?” Ivy mumbled, a bit offended.

 

“-Now we have a way of killing her permanently.”

 

That made the immortal human sway, shoulders hunching up slightly as she felt faint, something they all saw and their faces went firm.

 

It only made them see her as weaker, though Solas suddenly wanted to protect her more for it, his magic connecting with hers. It throbbed and began something in her down low. All three of them suddenly snapped their attention on her, and suddenly Ivy balked at the reason why when she felt it.

 

Three.

 

Three new flames lit in her.

 

_A few at once._

 

Solas felt his magic pulse and automatically wrap around her in reply to what he was feeling. Sheer excitement flowed through him. “Vhenan, you… you carry our children!”

 

"Oh... damn. I do."

  

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shiiiiiiiit.
> 
> (inwardly hoping this fic reaches 15000 hits)


	47. Games We Play

 

** Chapter Forty Seven **

 

 

 

Unable to help it, Ivy prodded at her slightly bulbous lower stomach, feeling the three little bobbles of magic in her jitter in response, playful, and it made her grin widen incredulously.

 

Arthur giggled from behind her.

 

“Wow, Arthur… I’m really pregnant. Looks like you have some aunties or uncles or both on the way!” She beamed as the toddler continued to shriek and giggle, shaking his toy. “I’m happy too, but what timing…” She sighed, shoving her top down once more. “C’mon, kid. Time to go deal with nobles, our favourite pastime. Maybe they'll actually be entertaining today, wouldn't that be something? Or at least not problematic, that'd be dandy.”

 

Arthur blew a raspberry at her.

 

“Yes. I think the same.” She imagined a barrier around him and it floated the kid to her arms.

 

She took one more look at her hidden lower stomach and left the room.

 

She just wished Solas was awake to see it.

 

While she’d gone back to the empire of Orlais a week after finding out she was pregnant, Dirthamen and Falon’Din had come out and had fought Fen’Harel, Mythal and June. They’d won against the twins, but at heavy cost of each going into Uthenera to rejuvenate. Ivy was terrified when her connection to Solas suddenly dulled while in talks with her council, Arthur sleeping in her arms. When she’d suddenly stood up and put Arthur down gently in a barrier halfway through one of them talking, they’d stared at her, before jumping when she bolted out. She’d come back twenty minutes later while leaving Solas’ favourite mages looking after them until she could get away, hiding her worry, telling them that she’d left a fire on and had smelt its burn from here. They’d sniffed, noting that there was the smell of burning wood, and congratulated her for getting to it so quickly.

 

And that was over ten weeks ago.

 

The only decent Evanuris slept, rejuvenating in the Crossroads.

 

She grinned at Arthur before sighing forlornly. “Where the hell is your mother, kiddo?”

 

Lana had gone missing.

 

Ivy suspected the Eluvian’s had a new little sneak in them, but she had no time to explore, now having taken over the elves in the Fade with Marcus and a select few elves Solas trusted to maintain the growing population.

 

Shaking her head, she took the gleeful toddler in her arms, who babbled on about wanting something to her. He liked to chew on carrots, of all things, so she sent a giggling trustworthy maid off to go get some for him as she went to the hall to talk.

 

It was an inwardly frustrating two hours of talking that she was able to emerge with agreements from her council to begin greater trade links with Tevinter Imperium. There’d always been an odd sort of tension between the two, but with them now getting blown off by other countries (thanks to information from St. Clements) due to the whole deal with Corypheus, their trades were more desperate as their economy suffered from too much importing and not enough exporting. It was now, before any other country could see the opportunity, that they could get cheaper trade deals and take advantage of it. They’d disbelieved agreements could happen, but would do as she wished. The country needed a boost now it had lost so much of its barely payed servants and elves to blame and fall back on.

 

It was certainly a loss, but suddenly the nobles were paying a bit more attention to their country instead of their social circles. She was very hesitant to say life was better, but it certainly was an improvement now The Game wasn’t as focused on, considering recent events. Honestly, seeing it slowly get better made her feel guilty as hell for what they were about to do to it on some days, and on others she was bitterly resentful it took this to get any improvement for the country.

 

Next talk of the day was with the Healer’s Guild, who wanted to debate her method’s (ones she’d taken from Marcus’ head) that she wanted to implement. It was going well enough with the Healer’s Guild more devoted to people than any other group was, until Arthur looked up at her, held up his carrot stick and with a smile and shake of her head, telling him it was for him, he frowned… and then pushed the carrot to her mouth with his magic.

 

Surprised, she’d munched it, wide eyed at him for performing magic at such a young age and then enthusiastically told him how good a boy he was.

 

Happy, Arthur went back to his carrot sticks.

 

Some guild members wanted him to be taken to the White Spire, pressuring for it to be rebuilt, but Ivy scoffed and told them the child would be privately tutored here, considering she thought of the child as a relative. She ignored their continued concerns and went onto the rest of the guild meeting, but she knew there would be tales and gossip that she’d found an Heir. She’d already sent out a formal invitation to the Inquisition to join her for a visit during her coronation when they came three months ago for it, but perhaps it was best to send another?

 

Upon leaving the meeting at the bell, she did just that, sending a letter off to Commander Cullen. Hopefully they would see the need to come this time. With the state of things, there was no way she was letting Arthur out of her sight. Maybe the Inquisition knowing she had Arthur would have them bringing Lana away from any snooping she might be inclined to do? They likely knew where she was, unless the woman had gone on a bender and simply left with a pack and mount.

 

Ivy really wished that wasn’t to be the case. Lana was an odd variable, considering her Earth morals, and the odd instances that she thought the now-elf knew too much sometimes and had a large, loyal following. She had a feeling the woman wouldn’t be on her side, and it was that which had stopped her from immediately writing that she’d found Arthur, debating on whether or not she should instead bring him to the Elvhen camp and not tell the Inquisitor. Yes, Lana deserved her child, and what Ivy was doing was wrong, but one whiff of the plans to bust the Veil wide open? Ivy didn’t think all the hard work and pain Lana went through to close them would be appreciated.

 

There would be a whole damn group on her arse for it.

 

...But then perhaps giving the child over would make the group indebted to her? It was a fine line to tread.

 

The gossip had been able to be stopped when it came to Arthur being a known figure in the Orlesian Court Meetings as she never spoke his name but for a fond ‘kiddo’, and no St. Clement had traced any conversation about said child. But now with magic, that would be a moot point. A child wielding magic at such a young age? Not being taken to training in a Templar protected place? Staying in the Empress’ home?

 

No way that would be kept shtum, so she quickly made sure to write a letter before rumour could get completely wrong.

 

And she would decide then if or if not to tell them about Ghilan’nain.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

  

 

Ivy grinned to herself as the toddler snoozed on her lap, leaning back on her throne with crown on head and the heralder called in the Inquisition, Cullen coming in with Josephine and Leliana.

 

There was a haste to his step to get to her, but had to stop when two Chevaliers blocked his way and others lining the Throne Room were putting swords to hand.

 

Cullen went a bit red but didn’t apologize, looking desperately at the child on her lap, impatient.

 

Looking at Stroud next to her, she nodded.

 

“Your loyalty is most welcome to the Dragon Empress, Chevaliers. Commander Cullen will be let through.” The General watched his men let the man through, here because they’d been talking about the protections to some of their southern cities where trade routes from the Avvar were getting plundered by bandits before the Inquisition came in. There were a large number of Chevaliers there, captains to be sent to different parts and given orders. Now they’d gotten most elves out, the old rotations were going back, one at a time but not before trying other schedules and alternations to mix it up a bit. She wouldn’t have the city destroyed by outside forces.

 

_No, that would be by an inside force, wouldn’t it?_

 

She shook that thought off as she stood up from her golden throne, knowing that she would represent a person that betrayed their own, right throughout her life. She wouldn’t be trusted by her own people. Probably never be trusted. She noted Arthur woke up and snuggled into her, sleepy and yawning as he felt her move. “Hey, baby,” She murmured as he made a noise at her, a little whine at being awoken. “Here’s daddy.”

 

The child looked around, staring because he didn’t know that word or that person it was referring to.

 

It had been over half his life since he saw him, after all.

 

Ivy gave him over, feeling rather bereft without a kid in her arms, but took comfort in knowing there would be three in another six odd months – or likely less. Elf babies came out quick, another reason for the racist ‘rabbit ears’ there was. Already she was beginning to wear decorative armour that chunked her body out and hid the now obvious bump. It wasn’t big, but there was something noticeable going on there. Especially with triplets. She completely blamed Solas for his wolf-like nature and multiple kids… and maybe her own genes too. She grimaced for a second but then focused on the reunion of Cullen and Arthur.

 

Which wasn’t going so well.

 

The child had gotten used to her and was reaching back to her. “V! Want you!”

 

“No, baby, that’s daddy.”

 

“What’s daddy?” Arthur asked, almost suspicious.

 

Ivy snickered as Cullen looked half bewildered and half put out. “One of the two people who helped create you. This is daddy. You are rather like him.”

 

Arthur turned the suspicious look on the man holding him. “You like carrots?” He demanded to know.

 

Cullen blinked at his forceful son, lips twitching at the very important question Arthur had for him. “I do like them, yes.”

 

The child grunted raising a carrot with his magic and then letting it hover before the mans’ mouth, making him gawk at the boy before indeed eating the vegetable. “…Maybe daddy.”

 

Ivy snickered to herself at that, drawing the Commanders attention. “Your son is very good at wielding carrots with his magic.”

 

“Where? Who?”

 

“On a business trip up north, I found him in the arms of a woman I am still trying to track down with the help of multiple groups. You may have heard of the mass migration of elves to… somewhere other than here.” She frowned, annoyed. “It was a tourism trip in an attempt to try and get immigration levels up to repopulate the Orlesian work force, but that is neither here nor there. She was elf, magical, very powerful and had him. She drove a fist through my stomach before my men could overtake her, hence the armour I now constantly wear. Good thing I am an avid supporter of mages or I'd have been dead.” An excellent reason to not show the baby bump. “I would not else have survived.”

 

Josephine spoke up, eyes sharp, “Lucky that we still have the Empress to wrangle the country back to its feet. The Empire cannot be without an heir to the throne.”

 

“Orlais cannot take so much upheaval without any Heir, yes, and I am scouring the people to find a good person to fit the bill,” She admitted, and it was just another reason to hide the true dealings of why St. Clements was going through people.

 

Leliana nodded, falling for it.

 

At least for now.

 

Ivy looked to Stroud who gave a rueful nod and she sighed. “However, I still have many meetings to get to and royal trips to prepare to tour the country and meet people and cannot let a third potential hole in my gut be any sort of reason to ignore it. You are very welcome to stay, I am of the understanding it was just a small group of you?”

 

“For the purpose of haste, yes.” He turned to the two women, who nodded at him at the question in his eyes. “I would like to hear more about this woman before we leave, why that mercenary group could have any attachment to her.”

 

“Of course. Tomorrow over dinner.”

 

It was sure to be entertaining, trying to outwit three savvy people and one of them a pissed off parent.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

This night however, was beyond hard, seeing Ghilan’nain simply burn Tevinter to the ground with ease.

 

In one night, the whole of the country was ravished to the ground.

 

Nothing but ash was left.

 

Ivy let her people make headway into the burnt land and began to have them plant crops into the nutritious land, even as she soothed a devastated Dorian.

 

She could give her people that, at least.

 

The Empire benefited from it.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

  

Dinner was a somewhat stilted affair.

 

It was a serious turn in plans for Ivy, as the doors slammed open and Lana came in, fury and fire in her gaze and step.

 

 _Shit._ Before the woman could screech at her, she triggered a silencing barrier over the room from her place at the table by touching a ward under it, unnoticed by the angry woman. “Good afternoon, Lana. Where the hell were you?”

 

The sheer gall of her asking first had the woman gawking at her. Before a pissed off expression once more made its way to her face. “You! You knew exactly where the elves have been going, exactly where Solas is and you even conned Mythal into helping you bring apart the world!”

 

Ivy picked up a piece of asparagus and munched on it, thoughtful as she looked at her. “Some of that may be true. Certainly not all.”

 

“Bullshit!”

 

“Lana, I-”

 

“Don’t lie to me!”

 

“Alright, I did know where they were going. Well, the ones _I_ knew of at least. Who knows if the rest went the same place? It does have multiple places. I did know where Solas went, but that wasn’t to say I always knew his position or when he would leave and come back. The man is his own person. Hell, I’ve barely seen him a handful of times and we all know there was something of a relationship between us, whether it was just bedpartners and then more. So trust me when I say I am _not pleased_ when I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing."

 

"Like hell you didn't know!"

 

Ivy rose her brows. "I do have a full time job as Empress, you know, not to mention I do have a business with my brothers on the side and yes, a share of the stakes in St. Clements. I know things. But I don’t know everything, as you probably like to think I do. The best way to keep secrets isn’t to know it fully or at all, after all is said and done.”

 

Josephine asked, “Where is he?”

 

“Last I knew, the Eluvian network. Ever wondered where that master keystone went that Briala and Celene had? Yeah, I did too. Tricky bastard.”

 

The spymaster was the next to ask, “And what does he want there?”

 

“He told me he wanted to give the elves a better life in the Eluvian’s. I helped him. Elves had gone through enough shit in the past centuries.”

 

Cullen stared at her in bafflement. “You gave up a major force-”

 

“Major force? As if they enlisted themselves into near on slavery?” Ivy interrupted the Commander. “I gave people a free life with a moralistic man that always hated his people’s lot in life. I come from a place where slavery is abhorrent. Lana knows all about it. Yet she also is something she should not be, considering the singularity of types of people there. Isn’t that right, Lana darling?”

 

The three sets of eyes were turned to the suddenly guilty looking Ellana as Ivy flung the conversation away from her.

 

“I-I, uh, I… Might not be who I say I am. But Ivy’s not either!”

 

“At least I kept my real name. And species.” She added on, almost idly. It was anything but.

 

Yet it had Ellana ending up spilling her guts, of things Ivy had already figured out. A California girl that was just turned twenty that had been in college, though Ivy had no clue she had been doing an anthropology degree. Good family, barely any alcohol tolerance and there was always some sort of ogling of architecture or ways going on so probably only travelled within the states. She’d always been eager to learn about it all. Ivy had always liked her exuberance to try new things though. Had always liked her bouncing, enthusiastic and peppy ways. Thought of her as a daughter even, so throwing her into the deep end like this _hurt_.

 

But she was Empress Ivy now, and Lana had long since drawn the lines.

 

They were more than apparent now that she clearly did not approve of what Solas was going to do.

 

And did not know where he… Wait.

 

 _Conned_ Mythal?

 

Her mind clicked onto it as soon as a presence came into the room she knew well.

 

Relief swelled in her as her bond came in in his uniform. First his eyes trailed over her, taking her in, and at the questioning look on his face and her own warm smile and nod, he turned to the others, coming up to her side protectively. His put his hands behind him, quite the imposing figure in such armour, with a straight posture and an unyielding look in his eyes. “Well, aren’t we looking all bright eyed and bushy tailed?” She teased, lifting a hand to playfully nudge him.

 

Solas instead caught her hand up and kissed the back of it. “I am ever the prowling protector of my Empress,” He replied back with some humour in his tone, chuckling at her snort and fond shake of the head his way, his hand squeezed warmly. “Do recognise I will not have any attempted harm befall my family. Now.” He lifted a hand, magic bursting from it and the room was encapsulated with his impenetrable barrier. “It is time to make a choice.” He looked at Ivy. “The hour draws near. We shall capture Mina. Your brother has a plan for her. He did not wish you involved.”

 

Ivy’s stomach dropped at being out of yet another important battle but she nodded. “I understand, considering what could happen. I… thank you.”

 

Perhaps it had been just that bit too obvious she was unsure of this.

 

Or because she was pregnant.

 

That too.

 

“Release us.” Cullen stands up, anger lining his body even with the toddler clutched to his armour.

 

Lana stared at Solas. “You’re Fen’Harel,” She accused.

 

Solas cocked his head, wondering at her. “Yes.”

 

The other three jerked in surprise at that with Ivy watching on, trying to figure out how she knew but nothing was getting to her, quite like it wasn’t for Solas when they linked stares for a moment, little frowns on their faces.

 

“How did you figure that out?”

 

“Figure? This is just a video game.”

 

Ivy choked a little, because then it would make sudden sense as to how she knew everything, and suddenly, there would have to be a lot of cleaning up to do. But, holy shit, _really?_ A game? “…What? I- No. Just-” She cut herself off, staring at the table. This needed to be locked down now. Andruil wouldn’t have known about- Her eyes closed in sudden understanding. “Of course. Of _fucking_ course.” She stood up abruptly, all the answers at her feet. “It links back to Andruil and Ghilan’nain. Perfectly so.”

 

Andruil could track back to worlds, and Mina… Mina had an ‘Andy’ she had loved greatly and she had always liked video games.

 

Jesus Christ.

 

No wonder there was games based on it – Mina had been in love with this Andy for _years_.

 

Years that were before Ivy getting here, and her Mina had always been a gamer, loved Never Winter Nights and Baldur’s Gate as a child. She was suddenly very sure those who made those game made whatever games that covered Thedas.

 

“It is so obvious now. Andruil’s Void power, and Mina had a person she loved since before being Evanuris,” She laughed breathlessly, shaking her head as she looked at a suddenly understanding Solas, who may not know the full story but would understand the outline well as he put a hand to her lower back, letting his magic flood her to keep her warm and protected. He both wanted to heal and check on their children and she smiled when his eyes softened greatly at her. They were fine. More than fine. Thriving, even. His fingers dug in, protective against what could happen now. “ _Get this on lock, please_ ,” She asked in Elvhen under her breath, having been practising over the long months without him and Andruil’s magic and memories to guide her. “ _Make them ours or…_ ” She cut herself off, unable to continue.

 

Solas would be strong for her. Strived to be when she needed it. “Vin, vhenan.” He turned to them as Ivy’s magic throbbed gratefully and gave them the ultimatum she could not. “Stand by us and be our subjects and do as we say, or die.”

 

It was, surprisingly, Leliana who spoke up. “I agree to it.” Ivy stared at her hard, making her go on. “Your spies have outwitted mine. Your links go further than mine. Your need is deeper than mine. I am outclassed and unwilling to die.” Leliana pursed her lips, unhappy, but a quick look to Solas and seeing him unable to divine anything more had Ivy nodding.

 

“ _Keep an eye on her regardless,_ ” The Empress murmured near silently.

 

“ _Naturally, my heart._ ”

 

“You looked after our son-” Cullen began, before turning to Lana, who squawked at her beloved partner. “-Are we to ignore that? To ignore how the Dragon Hunter Empress not only found our son, but let a good third of her people go without punishment, that helped the Inquisition in their dark days, simply just go? We could have simply been killed. But now…” He turned to Ivy, needing the reassurance. “Now we will live, in magic, with no hatred between species, in peace for our child?” He had to know. “Our Arthur will be safe, without hatred for who or what he is as a mage?”

 

“Yes,” Ivy said emphatically. “It has been our only aim. That people live together, just in magic.”

 

“Then, I agree, and speak for my son as well.”

 

Josephine spoke up before Lana could say anything, “You tried to get me before, yes, Your Majesty?”

 

“Yes, Ambassador. You’ve a talent to keep all at peace. We shall need it between humans and elves in the next life,” Ivy looked at her as she said these words. “But, you chose. You had that freedom. Now we cannot give that to you.” She sighed unhappily. “I am so sorry, but to let you live, you must be under our control. We have to make the world right. I wanted you to be a willing part of that world, but… it cannot be. You must be bound by magical oath.”

 

Josephine stared at her hard and asked, harsh, “And my family?”

 

“Actually,” Ivy grinned a little sheepishly as she lied, “They’ve been in the Eluvian’s for months now. Who you’ve been talking to is one of my St. Clements. They hoped you’d be there.”

 

The Ambassador widened her eyes in surprise. “O-Oh… then yes, I shall be on your side.”

 

The liar smiled, looking up at her bond, willing to be the one that was seen as liar while he began to make his Fen’Harel trickster and betrayer reputation something to not be feared.

 

Someone had to be.

 

Solas demanded and took their oaths, looking pleased. “Ivy and I are bonded as husband and wife in Elvhen ways.” He ran a hand over her hair as she smiled up at him. “And will also add to it very soon with our own children.” He chuckled as Arthur woke up and looked at him, reaching up for hugs. Cullen reluctantly let him go as Solas picked the boy up and held him close, smiling down at the boy that grasped his cheeks. “ _Arthur, have you been good?_ ”

 

The child nodded adamantly, summoning a carrot stick and holding it to his mouth.

 

Solas looked at Ivy in shock, who nodded ruefully. He sighed and chuckled, responding to the boy, “Thank you, Arthur.” He took it gently in his mouth, chewing.

 

The child was satisfied, munching on his veggie.

 

Ivy suddenly frowned. “ _Always_ feeding others…”

 

Solas stilled. “Oh?” He looked at the child in his hold and then swamped the boy with his heavy, concentrated magic and found a niggling bit of Ghilan’nain in him that then locked onto it, feeling it blast off and meeting with Ghilan’nain. He growled lowly and felt her scramble to escape him, but he grasped it, blasting his magic into it, and smirked as part of her was destroyed, making her less powerful. He took the handheld mirror out and got in contact with Marcus. “Employ the attack now, Marcus. We’ve killed a bit of her.”

 

“ _I will. Come as quick as you can, both of you._ ”

 

Ivy closed her eyes, and hoped for a swift death for her beloved sibling.

 

Solas wiped the tear from her face. “I am so sorry, vhenan.”

 

“Thank you… Just… thank you.”

 

“Mamae?”

 

Ivy’s chest seemed to compress on herself. She was not that anymore. Lana did not see her like that. “Ghilan’nain… Was Mina. Was my sister. You can understand my pain.”

 

Lana took Arthur from Solas quietly. “I’m sorry.”

 

“As am I, my loves… As am I.”

 

The pair of them left, leaving the Inquisition staring at each other, blasted back by all that had happened.

 

“Are we on their side or the Inquisition?” Josephine asked.

 

The other three looked at each other and stated hard, “ _Inquisition._ ”

 

The Antivan wondered if that was the right way as she looked at Arthur, but she bowed her head at them, keeping her thoughts to herself.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tying up the knots. Sorry about the delay, end of school year, you know how it is, then moving to another country to learn the lingo is stressful and exciting and terrifying haha x
> 
> I'd not actually looked at this since the last time I posted, so literal months. Hopefully I can go back to this with Fresh eyes and finish it off fully.


	48. Brick by Brick

 

 

** Chapter 48 **

 

 

Marcus jerked out the way of Mina’s attack, magic capturing his sister once more in a wreath of flames before the woman escaped him yet again with a created qunari taking the pain and instantly dying, using it as a cruel and heartless way out. There was a smirk on her face that had him snarling to himself, fury and pain mixing together like a stomach on a hangover. How she could use a being like that…? Well, time eroded all things, it seems. He supposed when you created something, there was a certain sort of control factor going on. They were easily made and thrown away. He wondered exactly what she’d done to The Iron Bull, but he could guess accurately enough.

 

This was the twentieth bloody time she’d gone from the hold they’d had on her.

 

Everything he’d done, even creating new forms of glyph traps offhandedly, something June informed him people just didn’t do (but that was Chinese characters in use for you) was simply ripped to pieces, with Mina either reviving, breaking or simply dodging any attack, binding or death-based, he unleashed on her.

 

Ivy joined him, something he hated, knowing her state. “Report,” She commanded as June slammed Mina – _Ghilan’nain damnit_ \- through another plane and they followed by jumping down, with Mythal attacking with her own magic, but nothing seemed to get to her. “Actually, don’t worry, I got it.”

 

The man sighed. “As do I.” He turned to her and stated in Chinese, “ _You need to suck her immortality out. Then you must leave._ ” He eyed her stomach.

 

“ _I figured that was true_.” Her jaw clenched as her eyes took it in, several barriers popping around her from multiple allies.

 

Marcus even slapped another few glyphs on her for added boosts, because he did not want the last blood relative that actually loved him dead. He already noted the others reangling their moves to be slightly more protective now they knew Ivy was here, because the Empress was a new hope for the old Evanuris. A way of saying they could change and grow and be something else, because there had been a sort of _helplessness_ to all of them. Wisdom and experience was a double-edged sword in that way. But it abated in the feel of the little candle lights in Ivy when they were around her, becoming just that little bit more alive in the presence of her.

 

Not that he thought she particularly noticed, busy as she was.

 

His sister had always been that tiny bit oblivious.

 

He slammed fire out with a canny twist of his wrist, the flare of it circling the woman in black flames, fire so intense the Fade reverberated around them and powered them further.

 

Ghilan’nain snarled, jerking out the way of them, but they followed like snakes, swirling around her blasts of magic and animals the others took care of. June planted his own traps of glyphs as Solas and Mythal fell back to deal with the distraction, sneering when the woman dodged every single one of them with aplomb, like a slick smugly smirking eel in the sea.

 

Unlike this one, who understood their moves seemingly before they did them.

 

Ah, but she knew them too well.

 

“ _She knows them, and the old us,_ ” Ivy noted in Chinese mere seconds after him, frustrated. He attributed this to her ability to _fight_ rather than any real smarts. Unkind of him perhaps, but he understood his sister well. “ _What the hell can we pull out of our hats?_ ”

 

Like hell he knew. “ _I can’t think of a thing._ ”

 

“ _It’d take a whole new- Shit!_ ” She jumped away with Marcus, the pair of them blasting out magic, trying to sucker her into the path of Solas’ ice magic, something Mina seemed easily succumbed to. She was a master of biological happenings, not so much elements and it showed. It was a shame June was the only one with an edge. Mythal’s and Solas’ power was greatest in their animal forms of dragon and wolf. But the pair daren’t go into battle against an animal master in such skins, and thus June, with his mechanical mind and jeering that actually got to Ghilan’nain, was the best here, what with the siblings finding it utterly hard to fight their younger sister. “ _Wait._ ”

 

Marcus snapped his eyes to her as she seemed to come across something. “ _What is it?_ ”

 

“ _A whole new world._ ”

 

He understood quickly. “ _You can bring about Voided worlds. It could work._ ”

 

“ _Find them, but yes. It could backfire._ ”

 

“ _We’d have to research._ ”

 

“ _It has to be soon, and this bitch of a sister we have is drawing it out on purpose, knowing I have something that could be used against her easily._ ” That had also become apparent and why none of them had wanted her in any fight against Mina. Ivy was halfway to giving birth at three odd months, going on four, and Ghilan’nain had a disturbing fixation on her. The others had run magic through her, but not one bit of Andruil or Ghilan'nain was in her. There was only Solas there, and their three children. Two girls and a boy, she’d found. “ _You think we could shock her with our world?_ ”

 

“ _Are you insane?! Bring her back there?!_ ”

 

Ivy effortlessly dodged a move from Ghilan’nain with a mocking, “You don’t think you can out-speed Andruil, do you? I did soundly defeat her by myself!” She was fibbing more than a little, but it riled the beast-master up, causing her to snarl in rage and then screech in fury as June tagged a glyph to her, burning it into her essence, another chunk of bricks knocked off the wall that is her power and making him cackle in glee as she shrieked. Just like they’d taken part of her essence out of Arthur, now another part of her was gone, and June was taking full advantage of scorning her to trip her up further and further.

 

They just had to keep hammering away at her.

 

The five of them internally swore as she unleashed another group of qunari on them, but Ivy focused, sweat beading her brow, and they seemed to drop into the ether, making Ghilan’nain screech out, having sacrificed a chunk of magic to bring about the hundreds of them. For Ivy, it didn’t take much magic, but it sure as hell took a toll on her inexperienced body and had her trembling. Tit for tat, she supposed, but the others converged on the animal creator.

 

Solas was the next one to decimate a part of her, grasping a part of her essence and corralling it as his own like he had the Veil, Orb shining from its place in a hip-pocket, and bargaining it off into spirits immediately, obviously pre-planning this. Magic, in return, flared brightly about them in the Fade and the spirits that had thus far been circling and watching on grew more fluorescent and shimmering. The humungous amounts of power was far too much for them and they had to share it out, but it was less power to Ghilan’nain and they scattered with it, lest she try to control them. Ivy helped by opening out little routes to far away planes of existence, knees shaking.

 

Just because this magic was instinctive didn’t mean it didn’t take its’ toll all too easily. Ivy swore as she felt Ghilan’nain tug some of her power out, stealing enough only to make a getaway. Both a curse and blessing that Ghilan’nain could use it, for it made her susceptible to Ivy, but could also do as she just did to a very lesser extent.

 

Solas and Ivy may have the greatest power of the lot, but Solas also kept a minimal set of power back to get away with her and Ivy could barely control hers. Mythal and Marcus were still building their power up while June was where Solas had been a few months after he’d woken up; albeit a little more powerful from not doing anything too strained, like bringing the Veil up…

 

The Empress grimaced at being the one attentions were turned to instantly, but she stood up with her husband’s help. A thought, magic guiding her, and she tugged her concerned paramour to a break she made in the plane to step back into the world the elves had made, far better than it had been since the last time she’d been there a couple months back. A sigh of relief and her shoulders relaxed a bit as Elvhen attendants came over to wait on them, though they turned to Solas first, then June then Mythal, and the Montgomery siblings last. Her lips pursed at that, but said nothing. It’s just how it was going to be. They only saw a human social ladder climber and her brother stealing their history.

 

How the hell they were going to ever bring about some semblance of peace between the peoples… Ivy truly didn’t know.

 

She tried so damn hard, and no matter what, problems on top of problems just occurred and never let her be.

 

The Earthling felt her eyes water and cursed her stupid pregnancy hormones when usually she could easily bypass the distrust despite the elves here knowing her part in getting them out, turning away from the overly helpful elves to their previous Gods.

 

Marcus saw and slung an arm around her shoulder, cuddling her close. “ _Your feelings aren’t stupid. No, it wasn’t said out loud._ ” He chuckled as he leaned heavily into him, face burying into his chest and huffed. “ _I just know you. C’mon, the others have this in hand. Let’s make sure nothing kept with you of our sisters, and check up on my nephew and nieces._ ”

 

A smile, feeling annoyingly helpless as she did the least in every battle against her own sister and went back to the thankless task of Empress to a city that wouldn’t even live out the last months they didn’t know they were living on, and she followed his tugging.

 

Solas turned at their movement, a lot more protective of her after being so apart from her these past months and simply passed reports to a brow raising June as he went over to them. “ _You are not well, my heart?_ ”

 

Not exactly the best at Elvhen, even if she’d been learning it for months, she replied hesitantly, “ _Just a…_ check-up?” She asked the end bit in common.

 

“ _Check-up._ ” The Dread Wolf replied in Elvhen for her, making her nod thoughtfully. “I shall accompany you,” He decreed, ignoring the elves that came up to him with their economy problems.

_“Fen’harel-”_

_“We need this to be looked at!”_

_“The housing lack-”_

 

“Enough!” Solas barked out, narrowing his eyes, seeing the disrespect for his wife for what it was. “You have magic to finish your housing, and tutors to learn from should you not know how! Do not think yourself worthier in my eyes than my wife who has brought you out to freedom without a single thanks from any of you!” He turned to Ivy with a concerned, “Bond?”

 

Marcus chuckled, looking down at Ivy who nodded. “I’ll let you be and help out here. _Make-Up by Montgomery_ is failing now, but that is of no concern anymore to us. My stock is now in settling here. After that I shall go to Dorian to make sure he eats.” Dorian had not coped well after the doom of his country from an angered Goddess. He’d adored his country, for all it was and held and had done. “Be well, sister. Call me if you need anything.” He kissed her forehead and turned to the wary elves.

 

Solas instantly took his place next to her, concern on his visage and bringing her far from the maddening crowds. He settled her down minutes later on a floating chair that was more like a bauble with a bed in it, letting a semi-transparent piece of cloth serve as a door. He kneeled next to her, pushing her back in a reclining position. “I do not appreciate the lack of honour they hold for you while their hatred for me has seemingly disappeared to nothing.”

 

“I’m Orlais to them.”

 

“A new Orlais. One that has already changed so much in so little time. But I suppose I cannot fault them their blindness for how low they have fallen since our People’s time.”

 

“Solas…” She weakly argued, but it was hard to be devil’s advocate when she agreed and wasn’t up to it, hormones making her eyes water so easily once again.

 

“If it is not stopped now, it will linger and infect all those around it. Better to cut the wound open now and heal it up. I will not have them act so callously to you. Of all the people that deserve better…” He lowly muttered to himself as he put a hand to her stomach to check their children over. He thought to her life here, hating her happy soul had been through so much as his magic flared into her. No sign of Ghilan’nain sneaking another piece into any of them. He sighed out in relief. Good. Magic was already doing its duty to her for wanting her to take out the Evanuris. He had still been beyond shocked at the almost sentience magic had gained, even now, but he was so very grateful.

 

The only reason it wasn’t put to full use was Ivy’s inexperience in using magic.

 

It couldn’t be helped. It was a time-based need, and he knew his bond was loathe to give up on people in the waking world.

 

Solas removed his magic and settled down next to her, hating how worn she looked, when she should be glowing from pregnancy, excited at upcoming events instead of dreading every single one of them. “I have not treated you well.”

 

“It’s not all on you. Not anymore, though it never was to begin with, just less so now.” She lolled her head to the side to face him. “I feel like a bad fit for you. You should be with some Elvhen woman-”

 

“No. You are who I crave.”

 

She smiled at his adamant reply. “As are you. Solas, we have enough people, and enough homes for them, and food?”

 

His mind whizzed through the numbers. “At last count, yes. You have less energy.”

 

She curled up on her side and nuzzled into him. “I do have less. Triplets are hard work to grow. Running an empire really isn’t my thing.”

 

He chuckled, kissing her hair. “Then, we either have to do it now or after you’ve given birth,” Solas murmured into her hair, relaxing with her as magic gently throbbed around and through them, a nice bubbly feeling that didn’t take from the moment. “We shall begin communications with Alexius.”

 

The Dragon Empress buried her head into the Dread Wolf’s pelt, knowing the smug victory was there in his eyes at the thought. 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

“It never hit me until I lost the Imperium.”

 

Marcus listened to Dorian’s bitter words.

 

The Tevinter accepted the kiss, lingering for a moment before pulling back with a sigh and then gearing himself up. “Now I just want to get it over with. Come, amatus, let us bring him in.”

 

The Montgomery squeezed his shoulder. “Of course, love,” He murmured, and led the way. 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

There was dissent in the realm the elves lived in. Humans and elves were still so separated, and no matter the efforts, some humans still treated elves like subpar beings and some elves would go out of their way to correct a perceived hurt that was never an attack in the first place. Ivy so sorely wanted to help, but this was no little argument in a tavern between drunkards, not a group of soldiers to snap at into formation. This was ingrained hatred, and yes, she absolutely understood how only elves being here would have been better, but she wasn’t about to let her people die out entirely for Solas’ plan.

 

She watched them from a small home she was temporarily staying in as Solas was working on a far-off home for them in a private area only family would know of. The people arguing here were on the worked vegetable fields before a small section of houses and education halls. She herself was simply there for a while, turning mainly elves into immortals, though some humans were also turned. No one paid much attention to her in a simply tunic and breeches and boots, and she absently had a hand to her round stomach as she held onto the doorframe with her free hand.

 

Marcus came out with Solas, books levitated behind him to be brought to the singular huge library they had, and shook his head. “I will not have my pregnant sister get in that mess,” He stated, nodding his head at the largening group. “They will have to deal with it by themselves. We can’t be the overbearing parents that don’t let their kids breathe.”

 

The Dread Wolf simply nodded in agreement, watching on imperiously with hands behind his back and shoulders out.

 

“Marccie… I don’t like this.”

 

“Do you want to be a ruler here, too?”

 

She jolted back at that. “Er. No, I, uh-”

 

“No? Because that’s where you’ll end up as.”

 

Ivy grimaced at that, not really liking the position of control and quite happy to give it over. “Yeah, true, but do we want someone like gear-boy over there being it?” She nodded at June swaggering over with a large chalice of some sort of alcohol, clearly a bit intoxicated and looking for some fun.

 

The Tevinter paused at that, knowing his sister was right on that. “He’s going to rile them up.”

 

“Yup. Sounds about right. Might want to do something about Leliana.” Ivy eyed the not so far away redhead.

 

“That instigating bloody…” Marcus trailed off, only to turn with Ivy at the approaching power.

 

“I shall deal with her,” Mythal smoothly cut in as she near silently strode up to them, “I’ve some delicious ex-lover information I can dangle over her head to cow her. A certain Cousland, I believe the name was.” The woman disappeared and reappeared by said Spymaster, making the once bard jump.

 

“We shall have to watch her,” Solas mentioned as they took in the large group. “Mythal will now use her to control the masses. I suppose that will be her gift to the Spymaster, letting her use her gifts in service to the People.”

 

Marcus frowned at that but sighed. “I will never understand your God mindset, Solas, but if it keeps us safe…”

  

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

Mythal looked at the floating cube before her with a hum as the Magister was bound below them on the ground. What a mind he had, able to understand the vibrations of magic and the nuances of sound to a magic that he couldn’t even hear. Remarkable, really, and it would be a shame to let him go, and the canny man probably knew his fate considering the glares he garnered from the others. But he had tried to raise an army for a dictator and the enemy’s side, and frankly, this was war. Of a different kind, yes, but clear lines were drawn, and people had chosen their sides. They’d more than given enough time for people to decide. Some had been made into Elvhen already, even, and some had already been taken out.

 

This one had the Mother Goddess unsure what to do with him for now. The Goddess part of her wanted to recklessly keep him alive and see what revenge would happen upon them, but that was the part of her that tried not to fall to apathy. The human side of her was a wee bit more inclined to being either sympathetic or ruthless, wanting to use or do away with him, so she turned to her fellow co-conspirators that were making the world right and whole once more.

 

Marcus and Dorian were both obviously looking to keep him alive, having lived in Tevinter for many years.

 

June was intrigued by his mind, wanting to use him for all they could, but he would do so by wrapping the male up in his magic and using him like a personal toy to play with and riddle the secrets out until his fun was all used up.

 

So, she went to the two more level-headed ones, who had less bias or motivation like herself.

 

Ivy was the one who would be kinder against Solas’ vicious and jealous God streak, and so she turned to her first. “What does our Empress think of this?”

 

“If it works, I’m all for him living on probation, though I do believe some others would think that him being of use would be his gift to us before he dies, Mythal. That if he had a continued use, he’d continue to live.” Her head tilted to the side to take the seized Magister in.

 

“The Elvhen pantheon?” Gereon Alexius’ eyes flickered to each of them, noting the knowing wisdom of Mythal’s motherly eyes, the silvery pelt of what must be the Dread Wolf, and the gears that seemed to sporadically make up parts of June’s fine golden robes. The pieces seem to come together in his mind as his shoulders hunched up incrementally, trying not to lose face when he understood his position, and theirs, and specifically theirs over him. He took in the closeness of his old student and his lover so close to June, and the Orlesian ruler pregnant and next to the Dread Wolf. There’d be no swaying any of them to his side, he understood. He could feel the power flaring from each when he focused on his magic, and it made him flinch. “Incredible… and terrifying. You want knowledge of time.”

 

“It will either be freely given, or we shall easily devise a way of taking it all from you in the most painful way,” The dulcet Irish tones of June came out, looking eager and pleased to do so.

 

“What do I care for your plans? Kill me and be done with it!” Gereon stated on a clear gamble.

 

Mythal smiled and remarked with a husky chuckle of an old woman, “Why, my dear, we can simply kill you and get the memories from your spirit and memories in the Fade. Your life is the token that we would, as our darling Ivy states, give unto you as your gift. We prefer you alive as your memories will be sharper as the magic belonging to the body recalls it better. Either you make it easier for us and live, or make it a little bit more finicky but no less taken within mere moments of your death, and you don’t get a second chance.”

 

“Such a marvellous choice,” The Tevinter drawled, but his eyes clearly knew what had to happen. “Very well. I shall help you.” 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

Lana watched Cullen play with Arthur, who giggled and shrieked in joy and he was chucked up and caught again, smiling softly at them when Arthur let out bubbles of magic and they burst in delighted sparks of cosmic pink and purple.

 

It was still so heart-warming to see this, to have magic so present and making her feel like she was breathing the world in as it should be. This was good. Why couldn’t they keep it like this? Why couldn’t they keep living in the Crossroads, leaving the Fade and the waking world be? Sure, it was still a little not-right to her senses, and she saw the strain on the planes of existence in the Crossroads, but they could work on it, right? They could research it? Make it better? They didn’t need to do more to it.

 

Even as she thought that, she could feel the instanct _no,_ that that thought _wasn’t_ _right_.

 

She forcefully ignored it.

 

Lana frowned, hearing something and looking over her shoulder.

 

“Ellana, I’m going to go see to the others, what with Leliana’s…?”

 

“Sure thing, my love.”

 

Cullen kissed her lingeringly, passing over Arthur and leaving.

 

There it was again, that voice.

 

Wait, that sounded like Leliana…?

 

A blink, and she warily walked to it. 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

“Dragon Empress!”

 

The woman looked around, filling out letters as Solas taught a small group of to-be teachers. “Cullen?”

 

The man skidded to a stop, Arthur in hand, breathing hard and uncaring of the fear a man in armour brought to young elves. “Ellana-”

 

Solas looked over, pausing, a little frown on his face. “Commander?”

 

“She’s been taken!”

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for patiently waiting! Just one more chapter, wow.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like another modern girl in thedas fic ;) hopefully a little different! Throw a kudos this way to make an authors day! Would love to hear a comment from you! I respond to all x


End file.
